Dreams and Nightmares: Three Hearts, One Soul
by Julianna Calavicci
Summary: The Doctor becomes trapped on Earth for the next 10 years and finds himself falling into a relationship with an old friend. Meanwhile, a threat from the past comes back to haunt the Doctor. Rated M for romance and violence later. TenGrace. AU.
1. Chapter 1: Lost Vortex

This story takes place between "The Runaway Bride" and "Smith and Jones" during the third series of the new Doctor Who (season

_This story takes place between "The Runaway Bride" and "Smith and Jones" during the third series of the new Doctor Who (season 29). We have no idea how long the Doctor was traveling on his own after he left Donna and before he met Martha Jones. It could have been hours or it could have been years. This postulates that the time between the two stories was a matter of years. This story can be considered AU (alternate universe)._

(Added after posting Chapter 3...) _Okay, I've change my mind about when this story takes place as there is a certain character that has been hopping in my brain, shouting "Pick me! Oh, pick me!". The story is now COMPLETELY AU and takes place just after The Last of the Time Lords (or after Voyage of the Damned, if the Doctor is alone at the end of that episode - don't know yet and won't know until - oh, the horrors of living in the US, having to wait so long to watch it! - probably mid-July)._

_Oh, and by the way, PLEASE REVIEW! Please, oh please, oh please!_

_Thanks:D_

**Dreams and Nightmares**

**Chapter 1 **

The Time and Relative Dimension in Space ship, Type 40 TT, flew through the cosmos at a steady, undisturbed pace as her sole occupant lay in one of the many rooms inside, staring up at the ceiling.

_Alone again_, the Doctor thought solemnly. But perhaps it was better that way. Every time he found companionship, it never lasted long. Most of his traveling companions had been dear friends; some had even brought out a fatherly or grandfatherly attitude from him. But there were a few – a very small few – that had meant so much more, whose loss had left aches in his hearts that felt impossible to mend.

Sarah Jane Smith had been one of those people. Having traveled with her for some years, it hadn't taken long for him to fall completely for her uniquely fragile and yet amazingly strong personality. She was extremely smart with a wit that most of the time rivaled his own. She was a lady and a warrior at the same time. And when he had left her on Earth for the last time, his hearts ached for his loss. It had been good to see her again in that school, saving the day once again with her and K-9. But, while for her it had been a meager twenty-five years or so since they last met, it had been several hundred years for him. While he couldn't admit it while they had traveled together, he knew now, and could admit to himself, that he had been in love with her, just as he had been in love with Rose Tyler.

Rose had been his salvation. He had been a broken man when he'd met her in that shop basement. The interminably long war – The Last Great Time War – had left him with nothing: no family, no friends, not even a home or a people. He'd laid in the TARDIS, just as he was now, still dressed in the clothes from his previous life, thinking about how utterly alone he was going to be for the next several hundred years. He hadn't even looked in a mirror since his regeneration, disgusted with himself for what he had done and yet knowing deep down that he had had no other choice. It was either destroy the Daleks along with his own people or let the Daleks destroy the universe and become the only race in existence.

When he finally did change his clothes from the stolen Edwardian Wild Bill Hickock New Year's Eve costume which had become his favorite outfit for the past couple hundred years, he chose an outfit that reflected his soul and clad himself completely in black. A plus was that he didn't have to look in the mirror to be sure that he looked fine in the outfit. Everyone looked good in black, even if it wasn't exactly a color that everyone should wear. Not that he cared whether he looked good or not.

Perhaps it was a streak of self-destructive behavior that caused him to visit the places that he did. Or perhaps it was just a case of a miserable person needing to be near more miserable people in order to feel better. He wasn't really sure which it was that had led him to take a trip to 1962 to witness Kennedy's assassination. Neither was he sure why he had taking that trip to Sumatra, just hours before Krakatowa revealed its most destructive eruption. A part of him told him that he wanted to die, that he was trying to encourage himself to take the step he felt too cowardly to do: take his own life. The self-preservation reflex however was too strong. Perhaps it was a last ditch effort on his part to end his existence when he booked a cross-Atlantic cruise on a doomed ship. It was a trip that would begin his journey to salvation.

He'd left the TARDIS in an alley, determined that, should anything happen to him, the timeship would become another ignored oddity in the big city of London, another box sitting on a corner, covered with dust. Then, dressed in the best Victorian era outfit he could find in the wardrobe, he made his way into the city, deciding that he should at least enjoy the sights before becoming a witness to yet another one of humanity's greatest tragedies.

He'd been in the hotel for less than a day when he met the Daniels'. They were an eager and enthusiastic group of people and he found himself taking to them just as easily as they took to him. When he discovered that they were going to the United States on the same ship he had booked passage on, he raged against the unfairness of the situation. He didn't know what would become of the family if they did go on the journey but he did know what was going to happen to the ship. He couldn't lose anyone he cared about ever again, no matter the reason. After all, it was one family. They could have been among the survivors the first time around.

And so he did something that was completely against the rules governing time: he deliberately altered history, convincing the father to cancel his plans at the last minute. Only after the deed was done did he realize the implications of what he had done. Did he just condemn the entire human race to extinction? Seeing that the change hadn't made drastic and irreparable damage to spacetime – no Reapers appeared to purify the Earth – he felt relieved that he hadn't made a horrible mistake in saving the Daniels'. He could only guess that they had indeed survived the journey originally. At least now they wouldn't suffer the trauma he knew awaited so many others.

After saying his goodbyes to the Daniels', who insisted on having a photo taken with him, he boarded the Titanic and headed on to his destiny, not knowing that his destiny wouldn't be anything he had ever planned. When the "unsinkable" Titanic had hit the iceberg, the Doctor was sure that it was over. But it seemed fate had other plans for him. Instead of joining his people in the final and irrevocable sleep, he found himself soaked with freezing water, clinging to an iceberg. Even with his Time Lord physiology, he found himself shivering. He knew it couldn't have been from the cold. Time Lords could withstand temperatures as low as -200 degrees Celsius. The only explanation he could think of was that he was shivering with fear. He was afraid of death, of drowning on an alien world far from his orange and red world of Gallifrey, despite the fact that his home was now dead. He stayed on the iceberg for hours, helping people onto the chunk of ice floating in the ocean if they came close enough for him to reach, mourning the dead as they floated by.

There on that iceberg, the Doctor remembered why he started traveling in space and time in the first place. It wasn't just to see history happen as it was happening. He decided that being the last Time Lord meant that he had to continue to fight for the rest of the universe just as he had always, especially for that one race that had captured his imagination: the Human race. After all, the only thing he had left in his life, other than his TARDIS, was his long-time home away from home – now the only home he would ever know – the planet Earth.

Soon, sheer exhaustion was the only thing he could feel, the cold sapping his strength. For a short while, he wondered if he would regenerate there on that iceberg but the change never came as he slipped into blessed unconsciousness. He didn't even notice being pulled off of the iceberg and onto the rescue ship.

When he regained consciousness, it became obvious that the well-intending human medical personnel were going to give him a check-up, something he couldn't allow. After all, it was Victorian England. He doubted that they could cope with the realization that they had an alien life form in their midst, despite their fondness for the works of H. G. Wells and Jules Verne. Seeing that the doctors were still helping those who really needed their help, he carefully slipped away and, pulling out the TARDIS key, called on his oldest and dearest friend – at that time, his only friend – to come to him.

And she did. Like a miraculous spectre, the TARDIS appeared on the ocean below, the door open and beckoning to him, reminding him of the one truth in his life: people and places come and go but the TARDIS has always been there for him since he rescued her from the stockyard. What was more she knew exactly what he needed to mend his guilt-filled soul, or at least a start to the process. The Doctor, like so many beings in the universe, needed someone to care for as much as he needed to be cared for himself. And being the universe's great defender wasn't going to be enough.

That being the case, the TARDIS had guided him to Rose Tyler. Yes, the Doctor had been tracking down the Nestene Consciousness. But it was the TARDIS that pointed out the Nestene Consciousness' attempt to take over the Earth once again, knowing that he would come across Rose. Sweet, beautiful, street-wise Rose. The star in his black world. The Doctor had been immediately impressed by her the moment they met. He fell in love with her shortly afterwards. She was everything he admired about the human race: courageous, curious, and caring – the three big Cs in his opinion. She always seemed to say exactly the right thing at exactly the right time, sparking his imagination and awakening his perceptions. She was worth the loss of one of his lives… and she was worth the breaking of his hearts at Canary Wharf. Despite her best intentions – and in part because of his – they were now forever separated from each other, her being now forever on the other side of a sealed temporal rift. The Doctor's only solace was that she was being well cared for. She had her mum, that idiot Mickey Smith (whom, the Doctor had to admit, wasn't really such an idiot after all), and most importantly the father she never had all her life, a Peter Tyler from another universe. Furthermore, she was continuing what he had taught her, that one person could change the world with the simplest of deeds.

With Rose no longer in his life, the universe seemed more unkind, adding to the unkindness brought on by the destruction of Gallifrey and all of the Time Lords. That is, all but one. Himself, alone in the universe again.

Sitting up, the Doctor took a breath. "No point in dwelling on things you can't control," he berated himself. He couldn't bring Rose back anymore than he could resurrect the dead. He had to live on without her and without his people. At least there still was the universe and there was his TARDIS.

Stretching, the Doctor stood, glancing at his watch as he did so. He frowned slightly as he noted the time that had passed. "We should be there by now," he told himself. "Shouldn't take that long to get to AD 1683." He didn't know what happened that particular year but that was what was fun about time and space travel. There was always the unknown adventure just around the corner.

Giving a brief yawn, he walked through the spacious bedroom and started down the hallway just outside, taking two lefts and a right before arriving at the console room of the TARDIS. Approaching the console, he grinned slightly as he brushed his fingers over the copper-colored coral-like frame almost like a lover caressing a woman. Even as he did so, however, the TARDIS lurched violently, forcing him to grab the console to keep from falling to the floor.

"What?" he exclaimed incredulously, steadying his footing just as the timeship jolted again. Swinging the monitor over so that he could read it, he stared at it as his eyes widened in shock. "We're way off course! How did we get to Sigma Alpha Theta Twelve?!"

Sigma Alpha Theta Twelve at one time was a thriving civilization at about the same technological level as Earth was in the mid-1960s. However, unlike Earth, the inhabitants of the planet had over mined their planet, causing it to implode upon itself. All that remained of the planet and its civilization was an asteroid belt that completely circled SATT One, the sun at the center of the planetary system. The only real problem with the TARDIS suddenly materializing at Sigma Alpha Theta Twelve with no explanation was that Sigma Alpha Theta Twelve was nowhere near the Solar System.

"The Directional Locator!" the Doctor surmised. "It must be damaged." Feeling the TARDIS lurch violently as a small asteroid struck the outer surface, he staggered to regain his footing again. "Well, we can't stay here. We'll get ourselves turned into mulch at this rate. Emergency dematerialization!"

There wasn't any time to reset the coordinates much less figure out what went wrong in the first place. Without thinking about the consequences, the Doctor quickly dematerialized the TARDIS, praying that the action would effectually rescue him from becoming a permanent part of the SATT System. Even as he did so, however, a low and ominous bell rang through the TARDIS as the timeship shook more violently than she had before, causing the console to light up with arching sparks.

"No no no no no!" the Doctor shouted in rapid succession, running around the console, desperately trying to keep the TARDIS under his control. "The time vortex is fading! But… that's impossible! Unless…" he started, checking the readings quickly, hoping that his thoughts would be instantly contradicted. They weren't. "The beacon is gone," he murmured with trepidation. "I could end up anywhere. Anytime. Or I could never land at all. Stuck in eternity."

Another violent shake caused the Doctor to lose his footing, sending him to the floor just as girders from the ceiling came crashing down. The Doctor screamed in agony as he was pinned under the falling ceiling. One final catastrophic jolt rocked the timeship and the TARDIS was suddenly silent except for the cries of pain from her lone pilot and the ominous distorted ring of the cloister bell.


	2. Chapter 2: Reunited Friends

**Chapter 2 **

One of the advantages of being one of the leading cardiologists in the United States was the ability to get any position in any hospital in the country, even if you quit your last position for unknown reasons. Well, officially it was for unknown reasons. There were only a handful of people who knew the real reason and they weren't going to talk about it any time in the future. After all, who would believe them anyway?

Sometimes, Dr. Grace Holloway couldn't believe it herself, despite still having the evidence neatly hidden in her home. Every once in a while, she would take out the blood sample and look at it under her microscope, fascinated that the sample even existed and remembering the short adventure she had had with the man she had procured the sample from. A most unusual man he was indeed. How many times had she regretted not taking up his offer for her to go with him? How many times had she reminded herself that his lifestyle wasn't for her? After all, they were from two different worlds – literally.

She sighed to herself as she turned onto the street that led to her house. She had always wanted to have a house in the Hamptons. So when she got the job near the illustrious community, she put her San Francisco home up for sale and found a nice, semi-isolated house there. After a long day on evening shift, she was more than ready to relax in the blessed solitude of that house.

She dismissed the bright flash in the night sky above her as lightning as she turned into her long drive leading up to the front door. However, when a large box suddenly dropped only a few yards in front of her car, there was no ignoring it. Screaming in surprise and fear, she slammed on the brakes, stopping only inches from the object that now blocked her path.

"What the hell?" she exclaimed, slamming the gearshift into park and hopping from the car. Hurrying to the front of the car, she was relieved to find no damage. She sputtered in dismay as she looked up into the night sky, wondering where the object had come from on such a clear night. There were no signs of any kind of aircraft in the sky to explain how the blue box could have dropped smack dab in the middle of her driveway.

'Blue box?' she thought, suddenly realizing that she hadn't bothered to investigate the object itself. Looking upon it, she stumbled back in shock slightly. The sign above the door flickered and the light on the top sparked violently but there was no doubt what was in front of her: a 1950s English police call box. The last time she had seen a 1950s police call box was…

An agonized scream drew her attention away from the sight of the oddity and to who was likely inside the box, if her suspicions were correct. Rushing to the door, she found it firmly shut and locked.

"Damn it!" she exclaimed, quickly searching the door, trying to find a way into the police box. As she did so, a memory slipped into her consciousness. She remembered being boosted up to reach a cubby hole just above the "P" of the "POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX" sign that topped the doorframe. The only problem she had at the moment was that there was no one to boost her up like the last time.

"You've got to be kidding," she muttered to herself, frustrated with her helplessness. Suddenly inspired, she hurried to her car and, kicking off her shoes, climbed on top of the hood. She quickly checked for the cubbyhole she hoped was there. Sure enough, she found and pulled out the key that, although it didn't look the same, she knew was the answer.

Jumping down, she inserted the key into the lock and, pushing the door open, hurried in before stopping slightly, frowning with a bit of confusion as she looked for the source of the scream. The one thing she could tell immediately was that something terrible had happened, leaving the interior of the police box in complete disarray.

"Grace?" a wispy voice called out to the right, gaining her attention. Her eyes found a thin male trapped under a large metal girder. Hurrying to him, she noted his weak smile at the sight of her. "It is you," he said with obvious delight, despite the more obvious pain he was in.

Grace approached him, cautious of the damaged interior. Getting on her knees, she quickly assessed his situation and condition. She didn't know for certain who this man was but she did know that she was a doctor and he needed her help. Pulling out her cell phone, she started dialing.

"No!" he exclaimed, wincing tightly to hold back the pain. "No ambulance." Seeing that she wasn't going to heed him, he ignored his pain and reached up, grabbing the phone from her hand. Shutting it off, he flung it away before dropping his arm again, worn from the exertion.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Grace yelled at him. "We need to get you to a hospital!"

"And let them kill me again?" the man whispered tightly. "No. No hospital. Don't need a hospital. Just need…" He swallowed tightly, his words plainly weakening him. "Just need this off of me. Get this off of me."

"How?" she asked desperately.

The man gave a weak smile. "You'll think of something. Just… no ambulance. No hospitals."

"But you're hurt! You could have internal injuries," Grace protested.

"I'll take care of that," he told her softly. "Just keep me safe. Don't let anyone find me." He paused. "Think I'll sleep now. Don't try to wake me. I'll wake on my own." Closing his eyes, he let himself fall into unconsciousness.

Stunned by all that happened, Grace was unprepared for what happened next. Suddenly, the man froze. That was the only explanation despite how impossible it seemed. A thin layer of frost covered him from head to toe but didn't cover any of his clothing. Reaching out to check for a pulse, Grace found that she couldn't even touch him for more than a second, so cold the man had become.

"Oh, they'd never believe this one," she told herself. It seemed she didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Besides, every instinct in her was going against all the medical training she had learned in her life. She had to get him out of there and she had to do it on her own, despite how impossible the task seemed at that moment.

Standing, she moved around the large girder that lay on her patient. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed one end and with all the strength she knew she had, and some that she was unaware of, lifted the girder off of the man and threw it to the side. The sight that met her made her question her actions. The right side of her patient was red with drying blood and his arm and leg were obviously broken.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Grace," she told herself as she made a plan to move her new patient inside to tend to him and to hide the 1950s police call box from prying eyes.

It wouldn't do to let the whole neighborhood know that Dr. Grace Holloway, well-respected cardiologist, was harboring an alien from another planet.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor's eyes slowly opened to see a plain white ceiling, telling him immediately that he was no longer in the TARDIS. Moaning slightly at the residual pain in his arm and leg, he attempted to sit up, finding the action impossible due to the weakness he felt over his entire body. A moment later, he shivered, wrapping his left arm over his chest to try to ease the chill that had suddenly come over him. It had been literally centuries since he'd had to put himself into a hypothermic state, a rare skill for a Time Lord to master, and the side effects were making themselves well known to him. It was hard on his system to forcibly drop his body temperature as he had. He knew from previous experience that there were going to be some unpleasant consequences to his actions but they were far better than bleeding to death. Briefly he wondered how much blood he had lost, dispensing the thought as being inconsequential. He'd recover with time. He had to. If there were any problems that his body couldn't fix, there were only two possibilities - regeneration or death – and he wasn't ready to give up his current incarnation that easily.

Turning his head, he observed the room in which he laid. The bedroom was decorated with vintage furniture circa 1920 or later, the rich dark wood giving what could have been an austere room a softness that was very soothing. The presence of a digital alarm clock, while matching the decor, distinguished that the bedroom was not actually a part of that particular time period. The soft cotton sheets under him smelled like Bounce dryer sheets, confirming the supposition he had already made.

The sound of a door opening caught his attention. He watched as a female human, her face half-hidden behind a pile of pillows and blankets she was carrying, walked towards the bed. Stopping at nearby chair, she dropped her load into the chair and retrieved a stethoscope from her pocket. Then, without looking where she was going, she went to the bed and slipped the stethoscope onto her ears.

Grace yelped, startled at seeing her patient wide awake and watching her with interest. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she exhaled loudly, giving the Doctor a frown. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, you seemed preoccupied," the Doctor told her. "I didn't want to startle you."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Well, that went over well," she replied sarcastically.

The Doctor winced slightly at the vehemence in her voice. "Sorry." Looking around the room again, he raised an eyebrow. "So… where am I?"

"You're in my house," Grace told him as she gently pressed the stethoscope to the Doctor's chest, listening to his hearts.

The Doctor nodded slightly. "Right. And you are?"

Grace froze in her actions, her eyes finding the Doctor's. "You don't remember me?" Getting no reply one way or the other from her patient, she pressed on. "You recognized me earlier."

"I did?" the Doctor questioned.

"Yes," she told him bluntly. "In the TARDIS. You were injured. I tried to call paramedics and you threw my phone away – which, by the way, you broke! You owe me a new cell phone, Doctor!"

The Doctor frowned as he tried to recall the events she was describing to him. "Right. Sorry, Grace." His eyes widened at his own words. "Grace! Dr. Grace Holloway!" Sitting up quickly, he grinned with delight at the sight of her. "Blimey, it's been ages!"

"You recognize me!" Grace exclaimed happily.

"Well, I should," the Doctor pointed out. "You did kill me."

Grace stood up straight, pulling the stethoscope from her ears and putting her hands on her hips. "It's not my fault they thought the X-rays were double-exposures. How was I supposed to know you have two hearts?"

"Well, you could have looked at the X-rays yourself before you put that primitive wiring in my heart," the Doctor countered. "Now that… that hurt!" He hesitated, again looking around the room. "Wait a minute. How did I get here? I was on my way to Constantinople AD 1683."

"Well, from what I could tell, you crashed here. The TARDIS fell literally inches from my car right in the middle of my driveway, thank you very much," she told him, clearly upset by the recent event.

"Did it damage the car?"

"No," she said bluntly.

"Then what are you worried about?"

Grace gave him a glare. "Listen. I've had a very hard week and then an alien spaceship dropped right in front of me, nearly causing me to wreck my car on it; you destroyed my cell phone by throwing it across the room; I had to find a place to hide a seven foot police box… and then there's you!"

"What about me?" the Doctor questioned, clearly confused.

"You froze!"

"Aw, that!" he replied, clearly unbothered by her statement. "I just placed myself in a hypothermic state to allow my body to heal itself, that's all."

Grace stared at him as if he had lost his mind. "You can freeze yourself."

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah, when I have to. Wouldn't recommend doing it if nothing is wrong with you, but when you have severe injuries..." He frowned slightly. "How long did you say I was out?"

Grace sighed slightly. "Six days," she informed him, resuming her intent of listening to his hearts.

"And all that time you've been taking care of me," the Doctor surmised.

"There wasn't much that I could do with you frozen like a popsicle," she said as she pressed the stethoscope to his chest again.

"Thank you," he told her softly.

She looked at him with confusion.

"For taking care of me," he clarified. "Even with me being a popsicle, as you said, you got me inside your house, into a bed, and into some jimjams. And you hid the TARDIS." He gave her a genuine smile. "You're amazing… Amazing Grace."

She flushed noticeably at his words. "Stop it. You're interfering with my listening to your heart. Hearts," she corrected herself just as the Doctor did the same.

The Doctor waited until she was done before speaking again. "How are my hearts?"

Grace quickly erected herself, clearly frustrated. Taking several steps away, she turned back towards the Doctor. "I don't think I can take this anymore!"

"Why?" he questioned with concern. "What's wrong?"

"You!" Grace exclaimed. "You're what's wrong!" She huffed slightly. "I mean… You look different. You sound different. You even act different but you're… you! I start thinking that maybe you aren't the same man but then you say something that… that…"

"That reminds you of New Year's Eve, 1999," the Doctor finished for her.

"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about!" she enthused, gesturing towards him with her hands. "And the TARDIS! I don't even want to start with the TARDIS. It looks completely different! It can't be the same ship but… it is!" She hesitated, certain that what she was about to say sounded completely crazy. "Don't ask me how I know. I just do."

"Well, the TARDIS likes you," the Doctor told her with a slight grin. "One thing that bothers me though… how did you get in the TARDIS without a key? And why is my arm in a brace?"

"I thought you said one thing," Grace teased him. Seeing the Doctor tilt his head and raise his eyebrows – a sign of slight amusement – she answered, "Your arm and leg were broken. Your leg had already knitted itself but it wasn't as bad as your arm. For some reason, your arm just wasn't knitting, so I helped it along. At the rate you were healing, there wasn't time to put it in a cast." She pulled the stethoscope off of her neck and wrapped it around her hand. "As for getting into the TARDIS, I used the spare above the 'P'."

"The what?" the Doctor queried, looking befuddled.

Grace looked equally confused. "The spare key to the door. The one in the cubby hole above the 'P'." Seeing that the Doctor still didn't seem to understand her, she sighed. "You keep a key above the 'P' of the police box sign above the door."

"A key above the 'P'," the Doctor said with a raised eyebrow.

"YES!" Grace told him emphatically.

"Sounds very Dr. Goose."

"That's Dr. Seuss," she corrected.

"See? I knew it!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I told Theodor Dr. Seuss was a better nom de plume than Dr. Goose! Suggested he use his middle name instead. Glad he took my advice." He grimaced. "Although, the name has been horribly mispronounced for decades. I can't believe I just mispronounced it myself." Seeing the look on Grace's face, he hesitated. "Well… I did."

"You don't remember the spare key," she surmised.

"Umm… no," the Doctor confirmed. "Don't remember the key above the 'P' above the door above the floor." He gave her a mischievous smile upon completion of his rhyme.

Grace sighed, shaking her head. "I can see you're going to be a handful."

The Doctor grinned wider at that statement. "Yup. That's me." He hesitated only a moment before looking around, obviously trying to find something specific. "Where are my clothes?"

Grace pointed to a wardrobe on the other side of the room as she started to change the sheets on the bed. "Hung them up. I was going to have them dry cleaned but I wasn't sure how dimensionally transcendental pockets – which is strange even for you, by the way – would handle being cleaned that way. So I just steamed them to freshen them up a bit." Turning her head, she noticed that the Doctor was already pulling his clothes out of the wardrobe. "And just where do you think you're going?"

"I need to look at the TARDIS, find out how badly damaged she is," the Doctor explained quickly as he removed his pajama top. Pulling off the brace that encircled his right arm, he grabbed his dress shirt and quickly put it on.

Grace marched up to him, determined to stop him. "Oh, no, you don't! Half an hour ago, you were frozen. I don't think you should be running off to do whatever it is you're planning to do! At least, not yet."

"I'm fine," the Doctor told her bluntly, buttoning up his shirt before removing the pajama pants and reaching for his trousers. "The TARDIS isn't." He hesitated, his eyes reflecting an innermost pain. "She's screaming," he murmured, swallowing tightly before quickly putting on the trousers. "I have to help her."

Grace watched in confusion as the Doctor slipped on his Converses. "Screaming? Who's screaming? Help who?"

"The TARDIS," the Doctor told her impatiently, slipping on his shoes without tying them. "She's in agony."

"Wait!" Grace exclaimed, following the Doctor as he quickly left the room. "You talk about that ship as if it were alive!"

"She is," he called back to her, marching through the house. "Where are you hiding her?"

"She… it… the TARDIS is in the guest house," she called to him, hurrying to catch up.

Focused on his quest, the Doctor didn't even try to slow down, finding his way through the house and into the guest house. There, just as Grace had said, was the TARDIS, the "Police Public Call Box" sign flickering as the beacon light – or rather the area where the beacon had been – sparked occasionally. The Doctor hesitated briefly at the sight, his concern plainly evident on his face as he rushed to the door and dug his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Key," he complained. "Where the hell is the key?"

Upon hearing the question, Grace dug into her own pocket and pulled out the key in question, putting it in the Doctor's hand. He looked at it for only a moment before inserting it in the lock.


	3. Chapter 3: Bad Memories

**Chapter 3**

"_Exterminate! Exterminate!" the Daleks chanted as they fired their primary weapons, slaughtering dozens as they moved through the corridors of Arcadia. "We must obtain the Cruciform! We must procure the secret of the Time Lords!"_

_The Doctor, now in his eighth incarnation, hated guns, hated weapons of all kinds. Always had. But sometimes the use of weapons was necessary, especially when the fate of the universe lay in the hands of a small colony of Time Lords on the planet Arcadia. Each person on the line, Time Lord and civilian alike, knew what would happen if the Daleks ever got hold of the ability to control time and space. It was bad enough that they could travel in time. But for them to control it? The whole universe would be drenched with blood as the Daleks swept through, destroying everything that wasn't like them. _

"_They're breaking through!" one of the younger Time Lords – a child still at the age of 102 – exclaimed, taking a step back in an attempt to retreat._

"_Hold that line!" the Doctor ordered, his normally soft voice dangerous sounding as he pointed to the young Time Lord, putting fear into the lad. "Don't let a single Dalek pass! Do you hear? We have to protect the Cruciform!"_

_Even as he shouted the order to the lad, a scream filled his ears and he realized that the young Time Lord would never reach the age of 103. He forced himself not to mourn for the loss right there and then, focusing on the important task at hand._

"_Doctor!" a feminine voice called from his left as he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head slightly, he saw Romanadvortrelundar picking up a gun and joining in the fight._

"_Your Excellency! You shouldn't be here!" he berated her._

"_I'm not going to just sit back and watch my people die at the hands of the Daleks, Doctor!" she told her friend._

"_Romana, if they capture you…"_

"…_it wouldn't make a difference," she interrupted. She hesitated a moment, feeling the Doctor's confusion. "If we fall, Gallifrey will fall." She looked at him firmly. "Doctor… it's time."_

"_Romana, no!" he protested. "There has to be another way!"_

"_We both know there isn't!" she shouted at him. "We aren't going to hold them, Doctor. They've broken through the rear line." She paused again. "They've just captured the Cruciform. We don't have a choice anymore. It's now… or never."_

"_There's no way to know if it'll work," he told her bluntly. "I can't guarantee that it will only affect the Daleks!"_

"_That's a risk we'll have to take!" Romana said, giving him a hard look._

"_Then come with me!" he pleaded._

_She gave him a sad smile. "Someone has to stay and defend the line in case it doesn't work." She ducked to avoid a Dalek blast. "Go," she ordered. Seeing him frozen in his spot, she raised her voice. "GO! That's an order from your president!"_

_Hesitating for only a second, the Doctor took her face quickly, giving her a passionate kiss before running down the hall, keeping his head low as he ran for the TARDIS._

_Romanadvotrerlundar, President of the High Council of Time Lords, smiled at the kiss, something any previous incarnation of the Doctor would never have done, as she focused on holding the Daleks back long enough for the Doctor to accomplish his mission, a mission neither of them thought would come to pass._

_During the horrifically long war, every gift the Time Lords had became a curse, especially their telepathic abilities and the ability to regenerate twelve times. The screams of the dying constantly ran through their minds, causing the weaker Time Lords to lose their minds themselves and weakening the fighting strength of the peaceful people. If a Time Lord was captured by the Daleks, regeneration became worse than going mad as the Daleks tortured their captors to death, waited for them to regenerate, and then started over, all to force the Time Lords to surrender their greatest gift of all: control of time and space._

_So it was that the Doctor bolted into the TARDIS with the screams of his fellow Time Lords ringing through his head as they were tortured and killed, further proof of Romana's words that Arcadia was indeed their last stand. As much as he hated himself for it, he forced the torment of his own kind from his mind. Romana was right. This war had to end now. The Doctor just wished it didn't have to end this way. Even after all he had done to try to end the war, it came down to this._

_Setting the coordinates, he activated the vortex loop, sending the TARDIS away from Arcadia, the last bastion of the Great Time Lord civilization, putting himself in the heart of the Dalek fleet. Looking upon his console screen, he watched as the fleet closed in on Arcadia, Dalek soldiers flying by his TARDIS at high speed, firing their primary weapons at the TARDIS in an attempt to destroy it just as they had all of the rest of the unique Gallifreyan machines. _

_Pulling his eyes away from the screen, he went to the device that would end the war, one way or another. He hated this thing worse of all. The ultimate weapon. The blast radius of the device would destroy the entire Dalek fleet and only the Dalek fleet, in theory. It was designed to hone in on Dalek technology. But that wasn't to say that it wouldn't hone in on other technology as well. The more advanced the technology, in fact, the more likely it would destroy that technology and those people as well._

'_Doctor!' he heard Romana screaming into his head telepathically. 'We're running out of time! They're…'_

_Suddenly, the noise was gone from his mind. Running to the screen in fear, he looked upon the planet Arcadia as it exploded in a fiery ball. Thousands of Time Lords and civilians dead…including the President. Romana…his dear friend who, centuries ago when they first met, was willing to be impressed by him until the Doctor blew it by acting like a petulant child because he didn't want an assistant. Who, when given the option of being called Romana or Fred, chose to be called Fred, something the Doctor never did call her. Who shared Paris with him. Who stayed in E-Space only to return many years later to become President. Who inherited a war that was escalating despite her best efforts to keep the peace. And who, moments ago, died keeping her oath to protect the planet of Gallifrey and her people._

_Tears trickled from the Doctor's eyes as he watched Arcadia burn, knowing that Gallifrey was next. Helpless, defenseless Gallifrey, without a doubt, was already embroiled with bloody battles. For a brief moment, he thought of Leela, of how she would have come alive with excitement and energy at being able to fight if she were still alive. They could use a person like Leela right now. But she was long dead now, both her and her husband __Andred__. The Doctor knew they had a long and happy life together. __Andred__ had passed on first in a hunting accident. Given that he wasn't a Time Lord – he was only a palace guard – he didn't have the gift…the curse…of regeneration. Leela followed him soon afterwards, supposedly of a broken heart._

"_You were the lucky one, savage," he murmured to his deceased friend, using the nickname he had given her but had rarely used. Swallowing as he watched the Dalek fleet advance, he knew that Romana was right. There no longer was a choice. The device had to be activated. What he knew that Romana hadn't was that he wasn't able to isolate Dalek technology as he had hoped. The device was going to destroy everything – Dalek, Time Lord, civilian, and all the planets they were on – within a 100 light year radius and in every time period. The entire Gallifreyan star system would be erased. The only comfort the Doctor would give himself is that his guilt would be erased with the whole of the system as he would die as well. Or so he had thought when he flipped the lever that activated the ultimate Time Lord weapon._

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor stood in the gantry way of the TARDIS, his eyes fixed on the damage before him, reliving a past he wished he could forget. But he couldn't. He could still hear the screams of his fellow Time Lords. He could still remember the utter emptiness he felt when he opened his eyes to find that he had survived the ultimate weapon, that he had regenerated whereas no one else of his kind even existed, and that he was standing in what he knew was literally the only thing he had in his life – his TARDIS, which, just like now, would soon die if she didn't get the repairs she so desperately needed.

"You _were_ the lucky one, savage," he murmured under his breath.

Grace looked at him with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. "Did you just call me a savage?"

The Doctor turned his head, frowning slightly. "What?" he queried before realizing what she had said. "No! No, I wasn't talking to you."

"Then to whom were you talking?" Grace asked, clearly not amused by his choice of words.

"It doesn't matter now," he told her bluntly, starting towards the console. "She's dead." He ignored the look on Grace's face as he examined the console room in detail, wishing that he had brought his glasses in with him so that he could examine it in better detail. "Oh, it's bad. It's very very bad." He sighed, finding a support and leaning against it. "It's going to take quite a little while to fix her."

Grace followed him quickly, looking at the console room with concern as she asked, "How long do you think it'll take?"

"Oh…" the Doctor started, continuing his examination. "I can't be absolutely certain at the moment but, based on what I'm seeing now, it'll probably take ten to eleven… years."

"Years?!" she exclaimed.

"If we're very very lucky," he amended. Seeing the incredulous look on Grace's face, he turned to her. "The TARDIS is biomechanical. What may look like simple metallic-based wiring to you is actually a complex life form. To put it in layman's terms, the TARDIS wasn't built; it was grown."

Grace looked at the wiring around them. "So, when I pulled out all that wiring to give the TARDIS a jumpstart…"

"You were pulling out plant life," the Doctor told her. "Well… not exactly plant life. More like a symbiotic plant-like organism."

"Oh. Great," she commented, her tone clearly reflecting uncomfortable sarcasm. "So, that means in order to fix the ship, you need to grow more… wiring." Seeing the Doctor nod slightly and confirm the nod with a quiet, "Yeah," Grace sighed. "And I'm guessing that it takes ten or eleven years for this organism to grow into replacement wiring."

"Actually, it takes twenty or thirty years for it to grow that long," the Doctor corrected. "But I'm not planning on replacing the whole of each conduit, just the sections that are damaged. But even then…" He gestured to the console. "It's going to take a while. I'll have to grow several grafts at once." He gave a weak grin. "Good thing I've got a large garden."

"Garden?" Grace questioned. Seeing the Doctor nod slightly. "You've got a garden?"

"Several, actually. Wanna see them?" the Doctor offered.

She smiled slightly. "Maybe later."

Even as she spoke, however, she noticed him walking around to a particular section of the console. He squatted down, a concerned look in his eyes as they focused on something she couldn't see. Whatever he was looking at gave off an orange glow that seemed to bathe him. Grace couldn't help but wonder, for a moment, if she could see the true Doctor in that orange glow. If it was the true Doctor she was seeing, she wasn't sure she wanted to know him any more than she already did, which wasn't a hell of a lot. What she did know was that something was seriously bothering him and that bothered her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, taking a step towards him.

He didn't turn his head as he raised his right hand. "Stay back," he ordered firmly. "In fact, leave. Now."

Now Grace really was worried. "What's wrong?" she repeated.

The Doctor turned his head, giving her a hard stare that bore no argument. "I said leave." Slowly standing, he told her, "Don't leave the garage. I'll join you shortly." He watched as Grace slowly obeyed his order. When he was absolutely certain that she was safely out of the TARDIS, he turned and quickly headed deeper into the ship.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

The lovely orange glow beckoned to the Doctor as he looked upon it. It was indeed very lovely. But it was also deadly. It was the reason he had sent Grace out of the TARDIS. Admittedly, she would have had to been exposed to a large dose of the particles but there was still the chance, especially since he had no idea how many times she had been in the TARDIS since she rescued him, that she could have been exposed to a deadly dose. And if that were the case, he'd have to figure out a way to get the particles out of her and fast. There wasn't exactly an antidote for Huon particle contamination. The longer Huon particle resided in a person, the more likely the person was to die a very slow and painful death. The only reason Donna Noble, the bride that he had met only a few weeks before, had survived Huon particle contamination was because the Racnoss Queen had pulled it out of her to activate the Racnoss hive ship buried at the center of the Earth. The Doctor himself didn't quite have that kind of knowledge. He wasn't a doctor of Gallifreyan medicine. If anything, he was more like a paramedic: a broad knowledge of a lot of useful things that could save a life but nothing that could help with a long-term situation. And there was definitely going to be one hell of a situation if he didn't get the Huon particle leak sealed and the residual particles out of the surrounding atmosphere. He didn't relish the idea of all of mankind eventually suffering from Huon particle contamination. He'd seen a victim of that kind of contamination die. It wasn't a pleasant experience for either the victim or the watcher.

Looking at the toolkit he'd procured from further in the TARDIS, he squatted down in front of the Huon particle leak and started to rummage quickly through the toolkit. He hoped that the molecular bonder would be enough to seal the leak but, if it wasn't, there was a back-up plan of patching the leak instead. Finding the former to be necessary, he carefully healed the wound causing the leak before sighing. That was the easy part. The next part… Well, if it wasn't done just right, he'd be waking up with a different face after passing out. Or worse, he might not wake at all.

Standing, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes to prepare himself before stretching out his arms as if he were inviting someone to hug him. A thousand dozen points of light rushed to him and then into him. When the lights had all vanished from sight, the Doctor dropped to his knees. His eyes glowed orange, proving the presence of the highly dangerous particles inside him. Then, putting his hands against the patch he had just made, he grimaced as he forced the particles to return to the casing from which they had escaped.

"And stay there," he ordered them, weakly chuckling to himself as he staggered to his feet. Searching his trouser pockets, he nodded in verification to himself before he slowly walked around the console and out of the TARDIS.

"What happened?" Grace asked with concern as the Doctor slightly stumbled towards her. She noted immediately the way he seemed to sway slightly, as if he were having a hard time standing. "Are you okay?"

"Huon particle leak," he told her plainly. "Nasty thing. Can be deadly. Took care of it." Feeling faint, he leaned up against the TARDIS' door. "Just need to rest."

Grace looked at him with deep concern as she reached out to take his arm. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed. Then you can explain what Huon particle leak is." Seeing him reach into his trouser pockets, she paused to see what he was doing.

"Never leave home without a spare," the Doctor commented as he pulled a sonic screwdriver from his pocket. "Well… maybe it's a spare. You didn't see a sonic screwdriver while you were rummaging through my pockets, did you?"

"Hey, I didn't rummaging through your pockets!" Grace complained as the Doctor aimed the screwdriver at her and scanned her quickly. He then scanned himself and visibly relaxed at the results he got.

"We're both clean. That could have been scary."

"That's your sonic screwdriver?" Grace questioned realizing what he had said before. She reached out and took it from his hand, despite the look he gave her that plainly said 'Don't touch.' "It looks different."

"Well, it has been a couple of hundred years since I saw you last. You think I wouldn't update my sonic screwdriver every once in a while?"

She smiled, returning the small device to its owner. "I like it. Very Spock." She frowned with concern upon seeing the look on the Doctor's face. "What's wrong?"

The Doctor swallowed down the emotional pain that Grace's words had inflicted upon him. "Nothing. Really. It's just… a friend of mine used to say that. She's gone now." He noticed the look of sympathy on Grace's face. "She isn't dead. She's just… gone." Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and exhaled loudly. "I'm tired. Let's just go back inside the house."

For the first time since the Doctor reappeared in her life a week before, Grace felt as if she were intruding on something very personal and very painful. Looking at this Doctor, the same man she'd met in 1999 but with a different… everything, she got a deep sense that somewhere, sometime, in the last two hundred years – or so he had indicated earlier – something absolutely horrible happened, something that had broken the vibrant man she had met and left this Doctor, a lost soul hiding his true self under layers of wit and self-assurance.

"Okay," she agreed to his suggestion. "We can start on fixing the TARDIS later after lunch."

The Doctor smiled at her words. "Lunch sounds absolutely fantastic," he told her, the lost soul that has peeked out once again hidden.


	4. Chapter 4: Dinner and a Garden

_Okay, I've change my mind about when this story takes place as there is a certain character that has been hopping in my brain, shouting "Pick me! Oh, pick me!". The story is now COMPLETELY AU and takes place just after The Last of the Time Lords (or after Voyage of the Damned, if the Doctor is alone at the end of that episode - don't know yet and won't know until - oh, the horrors of living in the US, having to wait so long to watch it! - probably mid-July)._

_Oh, and by the way, PLEASE REVIEW! Please, oh please, oh please!_

_Thanks:D_

**Chapter 4**

"Hello! Grace? You about?" the Doctor called out as he walked into the house, tucking the keys to his Harley Davidson motorcycle into his overcoat pocket as he dropped his briefcase just inside the door. Looking down, he noticed the small pile of mail on the floor. Picking up the mail, he flipped through it quickly and, finding nothing for himself, put the small pile on the table next to the door.

"Grace?" he called out one more time, doubtful that there would be an answer. Grace wasn't the kind not to speak up, even if it were just to say that she wasn't talking. That particular scenario happened just the last week after the Doctor had left the kitchen in a state of disarray, the result of an enthusiastic search for a can of tomato paste. He'd needed the paste to help one of the sick components of the TARDIS get better. Grace hadn't been very sympathetic.

"You could have at least cleaned it up," she had berated him.

"I… got busy," was his lame-sounding answer, a slightly sheepish look on his face.

Grace had given him a glare and refused to speak to him for several hours afterwards. The Doctor was pretty sure that the popcorn and movie were probably what had broken the cardiologist's silence.

"No one about," the Doctor commented to himself as he moved through the living room, taking off his overcoat and draping it over the back of the couch. He glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle. "Six thirty. Must be a very long shift today." He knew Grace's work schedule better than he knew he own and his was much more predictable than Grace's.

He'd gotten a job as a physics teacher, using the alias of John Smith, at the local high school, having found the two days he'd been a teacher at Defry Vale to be most satisfactory even when he wasn't investigating the goings on there. As such, he was normally home daily at around six o'clock or so, which gave him plenty of time to get something to eat and to work on the TARDIS until he had to be at the school the next day. He didn't require as much sleep as his human friend but he usually found himself sleeping far too late during the weekends after grading papers – the only thing he found extremely annoying about being a teacher, other than the gossiping that took place in the teacher's lounge.

Looking around one more time, just to be sure that Grace was not home after all, he carefully removed his jacket. "Well, then, how about dinner?" he told himself, carefully laying the jacket with the overcoat. He loosened his tie as he walked into the kitchen, a grin on his face as he remembered the look on Grace's face when she forbade him from _ever_ going into the kitchen again. He knew she didn't really mean it and had promised, instead, to clean up his messes in the future. She had accepted the concession grudgingly.

He rolled up his sleeves as he headed towards the refrigerator. The grin spread on his face as he started to load his arms with a variety of food: eggs, leftover steak and chicken, a squash, a zucchini, a stalk of celery and a carrot for starters. When his arms were too full for him to grab any more items, he went over to the counter and carefully deposited the load before returning to the refrigerator to retrieve milk, ham, a cucumber and jalapenos.

Turning on the radio tucked just under the kitchen cabinets, he grimaced slightly at the chatter of the deejays before quickly changing the channel to a classic Rock and Roll station. His grin widened as he heard the familiar strings of the Beatles coming from the small primitive device. "Brilliant!" he announced just before he started to pull more ingredients and a skillet from the cabinets, singing with Paul McCartney and John Lennon as they told about how much they loved someone eight days a week.

He looked at what he had gathered on the counter, nodded, and then pulled the Cuisinart from under the cabinets so that he could have access. Then, putting the appropriate blade in, he started to quickly prepare the vegetables and meat before putting them into the electronic chopping machine. As the Cuisinart did its job, the Doctor put the skillet on the stove, turning the burner on, before lathering the surface of the skillet with butter. Then, with the skill of a person who had done it literally thousands of times, he began cracking open the eggs, tossing the shells expertly over his shoulder and into the sink behind him.

He'd just cracked open the third or fourth egg when he heard Grace's voice filtering through the living room and into the kitchen. "In here!" he greeted without stopping his actions.

Grace stepped into the kitchen just in time to see a shell flying through the air, landing in the sink. "What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

The Doctor frowned slightly at the surprise in her voice. "I'm making dinner," he answered before he started beating the eggs, adding some milk and spices as he did so.

Grace hesitated, her mouth open just slightly. "I… I thought we agreed you'd stay out of the kitchen."

He rolled his eyes slightly. "No. We agreed that I'd clean up my messes from now on. And I am. See? Shells are in the sink and not on the floor." He pointed to the evidence behind him.

Again, Grace hesitated, still obviously trying to figure out everything that was happening. "I didn't know you could cook," she admitted.

The Doctor looked utterly hurt by her words. "Nine hundred years old and you don't think that I can cook?" he questioned.

"Twelve hundred," Grace corrected with a point of her finger.

"Oh, that's a lie!" he protested, clearly offended now.

"You're telling me the TARDIS databanks are lying?" Grace teased.

He sighed with defeat. "My fault for giving you access to them to get a diagnosis of the dematerialization circuit."

"You got that right." She smiled at the look on his face before moving to look over his shoulder. "So… what's for dinner?"

"Tangalonian omelets," he replied. "Well… as close to Tangalonian omelets as we can get on Earth." He frowned slightly. "You don't quite have the right ingredients on this planet to make them properly." Seeing the questioning on Grace's face, he clarified, "No lingilo and not the right kind of eggs."

"Lingilo?"

The Doctor nodded his head from side to side. "It's kind of like a squash-like jalapeno only equally sweet, sour, spicy and salty. I thought I had some on the TARDIS but no such luck, I'm afraid."

She grinned at his explanation, still looking over his shoulder. "Anything I can do to help?"

He turned his head. "You can stop looking over my shoulder and let me finish making it." Seeing the slightly offended look on her face, he corrected his mistake quickly. "Pick out a wine and set the table," he instructed, showing her in his eyes that he didn't mean to be rude to her.

"What kind?" she asked as she went to the wine cooler. "Red or white?"

"Whichever you want. It goes with literally anything," the Doctor told her as he poured the whipped eggs over the well-chopped ingredients and stirred the mixture thoroughly. Then, he carefully scooped it into the skillet and let it sizzle while he started to put everything he had already used either in the sink or back in the cabinets. Grace's comment of "Oh, that smells wonderful!" brought a smile to his face as he shut off the radio and checked how his culinary masterpiece was doing. With a skilled flick of his wrist, he flipped the whole of the contents in the skillet and then let it cook while Grace finished setting the table for two.

Placing the finished meal on a plate, he cut it into six pieces and then carried it to the table, placing it in the center.

"I forgot to say no utensils," he commented as the two of them sat down.

"No utensils?" Grace questioned with a raised eyebrow.

The Doctor shook his head. "No one eats with utensils on Tangalonia."

Grace smiled mischievously. "Not even soup."

"They don't have soup on Tangalonia," he told her with a straight face. He gave a shrug. "They don't have wine either." He reached over and served the omelet, putting a piece on Grace's plate first. "I have to warn you… it's a bit spicy."

"This said to a woman who adds Tabasco sauce to almost everything," she commented with a grin.

The Doctor smiled at her comment. "Well, we'll see." He lifted his piece from the top and took a bite, showing his human friend the proper way to eat Tangalonian food.

Grace followed his actions, taking a bite. For a moment, the Doctor wasn't sure how Grace was reacting to the unique cuisine. Then, her eyes widened slightly and she started to nod as she swallowed.

"Well… that's… different," she told him. Seeing the uncertainty in the Doctor's eyes, she gave him a smile. "I like it."

"Really?" he asked, obviously wanting her to enjoy the dinner. "I mean, if you want something else…"

"No!" Grace protested quickly. "I really like it." She waved her hand in front of her mouth. "It's just…"

"… a bit spicy," the Doctor finished her sentence. "I did warn you."

Grace nodded. A moment later, her eyes widened with surprise. She grabbed the wine glass in front of her and gulped down a couple of sips of white wine, instantly regretting her actions. She watched as the Doctor quickly got up from the table, coming back with a glass of iced water.

"You all right?" he asked with concern.

"Fine," she rasped back before gulping down the water. Breathing for a moment, she looked into the Doctor's eyes before laughing at the situation, getting him to join in the laughter.

"Has a bit of an after-bite, doesn't it?" she commented, gaining a chuckle from her friend.

"Just a little," he agreed, putting his forefinger and thumb close together to illustrate his comment.

"And that's a Tangalonian omelet," she said, taking the omelet in hand, prepared now that she knew what to expect.

"More of a pseudo-Tangalonian omelet," he told her, also resuming eating. With his mouth full, he continued. "The lingilo would make the after-taste different each time. Sometimes sweet, sometimes sour…"

"…sometimes spicy, sometimes salty," Grace concluded. "Is it rude to speak with your mouth full on Tangalonia?" she asked.

The Doctor swallowed his bite. "Actually, it's considered rude _not_ to speak with your mouth full at the dinner table on Tangalonia. Very talkative race, the Tangalonians. Everything they do in their lives surrounds speech. They even sleep with a broadcast running in their bedrooms. Known as the noisiest planet in the universe. They're so noisy, they're noisier than the Earth."

Grace chuckled. "Well, I hope you're only planning on a Tangalonian dinner. I'm not sure I could handle a Tangalonian evening if the planet's as noisy as you say." She paused, thinking about his words. "Wait. Are you saying that we're noisy?"

"Only in a good way," he assured her, taking another bite.

Grace let the conversation drop, not wanting to get into another Time Lord versus Human discussion with the Doctor.

The rest of the meal was enjoyed in relative silence with an occasional word here and there. Once dinner was over, however, the Doctor grabbed his companion's hand and pulled her with him.

"Come on," he entreated her gently, not letting her go upstairs.

"Where are we going?" Grace asked with a raised eyebrow.

"To the TARDIS," he answered, gaining an exasperated look. "What is it?" he asked, concerned about that look.

"Doctor, the only thing I'm interested in right now is a hot bath and a good night's sleep. I don't think I have the energy to even try to keep up with you bouncing around, repairing the TARDIS."

The Doctor looked at her gently. "No repairing tonight. I promise. Taking the night off."

Grace looked at him as if he'd just told her the moon was made of marmalade. "You are taking the night off? You? Mister 'I can't wait to get off this ruddy rock'?" she said with obvious disbelief.

"I don't recall ever saying any such thing. Besides, there isn't much that I can do at the moment other than make sure the grafts are still holding," he protested. "I want to show you something."

"What is it?"

The Doctor didn't answer right away, just looking into her eyes. "Please. It means a lot to me." Without waiting for a reply, he started to pull her with him again, this time not receiving any protests, verbal or physical.

They walked through the house and to the guest cottage the Doctor currently called his home. There, standing against one corner, was the TARDIS, still waiting to be completely healed of all her wounds. The Doctor pulled Grace into the police box, through her myriad of corridors, to a double door that was locked against Grace's brief attempt to open it.

"I don't go in there very often," the Doctor told softly as he leaned against the wall just opposite the door. "Too many memories." He took a breath and exhaled, focusing his thoughts on why he had brought Grace to this particular door. "It looks different from the last time you were in there. I'd gotten into a redecorating mood after New Year's Eve." He didn't need to specify which year. He knew that she would know. "Got all nostalgic. Made the whole TARDIS look…" He hesitated, obviously uncomfortable with the memory. "…look like home," he finished. He noted the look of sympathy on Grace's face and pushed from the wall, instantly covering his feelings about the subject. "After the…" He swallowed tightly before rephrasing his sentence. "After I regenerated into my ninth life, I redecorated again. The TARDIS needed repair and I needed a change. So…" He gestured to his surroundings, to the organic-looking walls around them. He then nodded to the door. "But that… I didn't change." He paused, swallowing down the memories that came unbidden to him. "I… I couldn't change it." He rubbed his nose briefly with a sniff, again hiding his feelings. "Which is why I don't go in there often. I've only gone in there once since…" He hesitated again with yet another sniff. "…since the war." He gave a weak smile. "Rose wanted to know what it looked like."

Grace had listened without interruption, knowing from the look on the Doctor's face that what was on the other side of the door was intensely personal and perhaps even painful for him. He didn't talk much about the war with her. She knew it was a long and bloody war that had affected more than just the Time Lords and the Daleks, whom she had discovered from the Doctor were the same creatures who had filled the skies while the metal men – Cybermen – attacked from the ground. She also knew the Last Great Time War had left the Doctor alone in the universe. The Last Time Lord. The Doctor had told her how his home planet of Gallifrey had been destroyed, taking all of the Time Lords with it. All but him.

It took a few moments for what the Doctor had said to make sense to her. Turning towards the locked door, she wondered why he would bring her here when what was behind the door obviously brought so much sadness to her dear friend.

"What's on the other side?" she asked. The moment the words left her lips, she knew the answer wasn't going to be what she expected. Each room in the TARDIS had its own name, just like a house is full of specially named rooms. She was expecting the name of this room. The answer she got was…

"Gallifrey."

Without another word, the Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver and unlocked the door. He gave Grace a sad smile before pushing the doors open.

It looked almost like it could have come right off of a page of a book. There didn't seem to be a ceiling or even walls. The view seemed to go on forever. The deep red grass and the bright twin suns, which gave the sky an amazing burnt orange color, beckoned her to follow them to the edge. On the right were amazingly intricate purple rock formations, as if the place had been etched into the side of a mountain. Just below and to the far left, standing majestically in view, was a large glass-enclosed city, its tall spires reaching up as if it could touch the heavens themselves.

Close up was just as majestically beautiful. The garden flourished with red, purple, blue and silver plants which graced the perimeter. A cobblestone walkway started at the door, went into the garden and stopped at a large circular rock formation in the middle of the large garden. The rest was covered with the same deep red grass that could be seen all through the valley below. The garden itself seemed to come to an abrupt end at the far side, a short rock wall and two ornate pillars the only things to prevent someone from falling thousands of feet.

Grace dared to take a few steps into the room, stunned by the beauty before her. She could have sworn that she could feel a gentle breeze on her face, a sweet scent tickling her nose.

"This is Gallifrey?" she questioned, unsure of whether or not she was hallucinating what she was seeing.

"In a way," the Doctor told her softly, following her into the room slowly. "The plants are real, as are the pillars and the rock wall. The rest is an illusion to make the room look this way. The room itself only goes to the rock wall."

A gentle smile formed on Grace's lips. "It's beautiful," she commented.

"Yeah," the Doctor said quietly. Feeling Grace's eyes on him, he tucked his hands into his trouser pockets. "This was my mother's garden. On Gallifrey," he started. "She spent hours keeping her plants. My brother and I used to play out here all the time. And then he left for the Academy and I never saw him again, even after I left for the Academy myself. Well, not until Mother died. He didn't want the house; I didn't want to stay. But neither did we want this garden to die so…" He finally looked at his surroundings. "It's an exact replica of her garden with one exception." He nodded to the rock formation in the center of the room.

Grace followed his motion and finally really looked at the large circular formation, finding it oddly familiar. Moving closer, she could see the four holes where there should have been four tall staffs on each corner of the formation. In the center was a large ornate metallic dome which looked as if it could be opened.

"Wait…" she started, pointing to the dome. "Isn't that the Eye of Destruction?"

For the first time since he had asked her to go into the TARDIS with him that night, the Doctor grinned and chuckled. "Harmony. The Eye of Harmony. You never did quite get that."

"Right," Grace replied, slightly embarrassed by the mistake. "But that would mean that this is the Cloister Room. Am I right?" Seeing the Doctor nod, she shook her head slightly. "You really did redecorate," she commented, remembering how it had looked more like a gothic cathedral the last time she had been in there. "What happened to the staffs?"

"They burned with the Eye," the Doctor told her quickly, not looking at her. "The garden nearly burned with the Eye too but the TARDIS saved it."

Grace frowned at his words, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

He pointed to the ceiling. "Sprinkler system."

Grace shook her head. "No, I mean with the Eye burning. What does that mean? I thought the Eye powered the TARDIS."

The Doctor took a deep breath. "It did. Not anymore." Seeing the confusion that was still on her face, he sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to be happy until he explained himself. "The Eye of Harmony was on Gallifrey."

"But you said this was the Eye," Grace pointed out.

"It was," the Doctor confirmed, gaining a roll of her eyes in response. "It's… complicated." He noted the way Grace folded her arms, waiting and sighed again as he found a seat on the corner of the Eye that once housed a staff. "The Eye of Harmony was a time-spatial anomaly that lay in the heart of Gallifrey. It was also in every TARDIS throughout the universe. It powered the entire Time Lord civilization." He glanced at Grace to see if she actually understood what it was he was telling her.

"So… the Eye of Harmony was in multiple places and in only one place at the same time," Grace concluded. Seeing the glint in the Doctor's eyes, she knew that she had hit the proverbial nail on its head. "That's… amazing!" Her smile faded as she realized the implications of the concept. "So, when Gallifrey was destroyed, so was the Eye."

The Doctor nodded after a moment, his eyes pained from the memory.

Grace didn't say anything, seeing the look in the Doctor's eyes. Going to him, she sat beside him, putting her arm gently around him before laying her head on his shoulder, thinking about the man she was trying to comfort. She didn't know why he took her to the Cloister Room when it was so obviously painful for him. Why would anyone, human or alien, deliberately expose such a personal and painful part of their lives?

"Why did you show me this?" she asked gently. She felt the Doctor tense under her touch upon hearing the question. Slowly pulling away from him, she looked at him with concern as he stood and took several steps away from her.

The Doctor just stood, his back to the woman he now considered a close friend, thinking about the question she'd asked. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind as he tried to find an answer.

Occasionally, not that often recently, the Doctor would silence his mind and communicate telepathically with his ship. People who didn't understand the relationship of Time Lord and TARDIS might say that he was mad to even suggest that he could actually hold a conversation with a machine. But they didn't know that the TARDIS wasn't just a machine; it was as much a part of a Time Lord as were two hearts and a respiratory bypass system.

_Leave it to Grace to ask_, the Doctor thought with a mental sigh. _How can I even answer that question when I don't know the reason myself? I'm not even sure why I showed Rose._

_Don't be stupid, Doctor_, the TARDIS whispered back to him. The Doctor had always heard the TARDIS as having a feminine voice, even though the timeship really didn't have a gender. _You know why you showed Rose. You loved her and she asked you to show her._

_But that doesn't explain voluntarily showing Grace my mother's garden, especially when I know it will only hurt me._

_Certainly it does. This room is very personal to you on so many levels. Maybe you want to let her in, just like you wanted to let Rose in. You could have told Rose 'no' when she asked. But you didn't. Face the facts, my old friend. You are falling in love with Grace Holloway._

The Doctor mentally denied the TARDIS' supposition, instantly breaking off the telepathic communication. Even as he refocused on the here and now, he felt Grace's eyes on his back. He had to say something to her, he knew. He couldn't just let the question hang in the air. It wouldn't be fair to her. But neither could he accept the TARDIS' supposition. He wasn't falling in love with Grace. It just wasn't even an option. In ten years time, he and the TARDIS would be flying through the time vortex to the next great adventure. He didn't have the time or the inclination for anything as mundane as falling in love with a primitive ape.

"I just thought that…" he started. "Well… you know about the Time War and you already know about my mother being human… which isn't something I just tell anyone, even though I seemed to tell everyone everything in my eighth life. I just thought you might like to… see Mother's garden." Even to him, the explanation sounded extremely lame.

_Oh, that's really convincing, Doctor. _

_Shut it_, the Doctor warned his ship as he turned to see Grace coming towards him.

"Well, it's a lovely garden," she told him, gently smiling as she took his hand. "Thank you for sharing it with me." Seeing the Doctor nod slightly at her gratitude, which was the most he would do if it were personal to him, she pulled him towards the door. "You know what? I'm in the mood for ice cream. You got any in that disaster zone you call a kitchen?"

"Oi!" the Doctor feigned protest, the sadness that he had felt temporarily banished as he followed her out the door. He couldn't help but grin at Grace's laughter as the two of them made their way towards banana splits.


	5. Chapter 5: Happy Holloways!

**Chapter 5**

"Oh, come on! It'll be fun!" Grace wheedled. "You love parties. And don't tell me you don't because I know better. Like last Halloween. You put on that 18th century Italian nobleman costume and pranced around as if you were Casanova or something. And you had a great time. You said so."

The Doctor grimaced slightly as Grace spoke. He did have to admit that the Halloween party was a lot of fun. But that was a completely different scenario. At the Halloween party, he could just let himself relax and not worry what anyone thought of him. No one pressed him about where he was from or anything else concerning his past. What Grace was proposing now… well, he summed up his feeling regarding it with a phrase he had used before.

"I don't do domestic," he told her plainly. "Especially not after…" He stopped, not wanting to go any further down that train of thought. While he had come to terms with never being able to see his beloved Rose again, there were some memories that were too precious to just ignore. "I just don't do that sort of thing," he finished.

"What do you call making dinner and cleaning the house?" Grace pointed out to him.

"Necessity," the Doctor answered, avoiding her eyes. He'd already come to know what would happen if he looked into her eyes. He'd cave in like a hillside under the pressure of TNT.

Grace shook her head and sat next to him, taking his hand and finally getting him to look up at her. "Please, come to the party. Mom and Dad'll love you. Beside, my brother is going to be there and I know you two will get along famously. You're both… eccentric."

"Oh, blimey," the Doctor moaned, rolling his eyes at her choice of words. "You are doing a beautiful job of convincing me that I am much safer remaining here with Jimmy Stewart finding out how wonderful life is."

Grace grinned at his reluctance. "It's not that bad. Honest." She stood up and looked down on him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Besides, I already told Mom that you're coming."

He looked at her with a frown. "Then you can call her again and tell her that I'm not." He refocused his attention on the television in front of him.

Grace sighed, seemingly out of resignation. "If that's what you want."

"That's what I want," the Doctor confirmed as Grace started for the door.

Stopping, she turned again towards her friend. "Oh, by the way, your present is already at my mom's and I'm not bringing it home," she told him with a wry grin. "So if you want it, you're going to have to go there to get it."

The Doctor sighed as he stood up, shutting off the television and going to Grace, who now held his overcoat in ready. "How long is this party going to last?" he asked, clearly reluctant to even attend.

Grace automatically translated the question into what the Doctor really wanted to know, namely how long the whole excursion away from his comfort zone was going to be. "It's a five hour drive…"

"Five hours!" the Doctor exclaimed. "You expect me to sit in a car for five hours?"

Grace looked at him pointedly. "Twelve hundred years old and you can't handle a mere five hour trip in a car." She shook her head again. "I swear, sometimes you are such a big baby."

He frowned as he let Grace help him into his overcoat. "My legs are too long for that little thing," he complained.

"Well, I'm not riding for five hours on the back of a motorcycle," Grace countered, grabbing her purse. "The party itself will probably be five or six hours and then we have the drive back."

"Sixteen hours!" The Doctor sighed. "That's a whole day!"

She gave him a glare. "Are you going to be this childish the entire trip?"

"Maybe," he told her, a defiant look in his eyes.

Sighing, she started out the door. "Lock up behind us," she ordered, not bothering to see if he would comply. She knew he would. He may act like an irresponsible brat at times like these but he never neglected things like their safety.

The drive to Grace's parents' house was fairly easy-going, considering that they were in the middle of the usual holiday traffic. For almost an hour and a half, the Doctor slumped in the passenger's seat, his feet on the dashboard as he stared out at the passing scenery. He had to admit that it was very lovely in New York this time of the year and the holiday decorations that lined every street did distract him from the confines of Grace's little sports car. Soon, however, he found himself drifting to sleep, his legs pulling towards his stomach as if they had a mind of their own.

Grace glanced over at her passenger as she heard a small quiet snort and smiled. In many ways, the Doctor did remind her of her little brother Andrew. Andrew was notorious for throwing hissy fits whenever he didn't get his way. Her parents always seemed to have to drag him out of the house whenever they needed to go anywhere. And, like the Doctor, once you get him on a subject of interest, it was practically impossible to get him to shut up without being extraordinarily rude.

Still, despite his childlike stubbornness, there were things about the Doctor that Grace found extremely attractive. The Doctor was practically the most selfless man Grace had ever met. Oh, there were times when he could be very selfish; self-preservation was an instinct that all creatures had. But the Doctor was… well, the Doctor. She knew that, if he could save one single human life at the loss of his own, he would do it in a heartbeat. Oh, a lot of people say they would do the same but the Doctor has actually done just that time and time again.

It wasn't just his selflessness that attracted Grace, though. He'd had a great personality: funny, witty, charming, sincere most times, slightly (or not so slightly) sarcastic at other times, caring – always caring – and sad. Oh, he hid the sadness well but it was always there, just under the surface. How she wished she could erase that sadness forever but she knew that would never be possible. Sometimes the only thing you can do with that kind of sadness is to bury it, which the Doctor did so very well. Well… most of the time.

It was just after one o'clock in the afternoon when she pulled the car up to her parents' house, the stop causing the Doctor to wake from his rest.

"We're here," she told him with a smile.

"So I surmised," the Doctor replied, immediately opening the door and stepping out to stretch. He grunted in protest of the pain in his neck and back. "Next time, we take the motorcycle," he told her with a groan, gaining a grin from her.

"Or we go to the car lot and buy you a decent car," Grace countered teasingly.

The Doctor looked at her with feigned offense. "There is nothing wrong with ol' Jennie. She's a wonderful motorcycle," he told her, following her to the door of the large house.

Grace didn't dignify the comment with a reply, instead pushing the door open and allowing the Doctor to follow her in. "Mom! Dad! We're here!" she called out as she pulled off her coat and hung it and her purse on a nearby coat rack.

The sound of an excited scream came from deep in the house, followed by running footfalls. A moment later, an elderly woman of about seventy years old came into view. She immediately went to Grace and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Oh, honey! How we've missed you!" she stated for both her and the elderly man who had followed her to the door. Her attention shifted to the tall thin man who stood just behind Grace. "Oh, and you must be the friend she's been talking about!"

The Doctor politely accepted her hand. "John Smith," he introduced himself.

"Janet Holloway," Grace's mother replied before turning and pulling Grace's father towards the Doctor. "And this is my husband Erik."

Erik Holloway took the Doctor's hand firmly and gave a brief shake, looking into the latter's eyes. "So, you're my Grace's latest fling."

The Doctor blinked at the man's words, stunned. "I'm… I'm sorry?"

"Dad!" Grace berated vehemently. "He's a friend! That's all."

"So you said about Brian," Erik told her pointedly, gaining a growl from his daughter.

Janet gave her husband a hard glare. "Erik, we are not getting into an argument today. It's Christmas Day and, by heaven, I will not allow it!" Seeing her husband was going to acquiesce, albeit reluctantly, she turned towards the Doctor. "I'm so sorry for my husband's behavior, John. He can be a little overprotective of Grace."

"Well, I can understand how that is. Once was a father myself," the Doctor commented, giving Grace a look

Janet smiled gently. "I'm so glad you understand. Come meet the rest of the family." She started deeper into the house, taking her husband's arm to force him to follow.

The Doctor leaned towards Grace. "All too domestic," he muttered to her.

Grace huffed in frustration. "Don't start," she warned, following her parents.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor stood in the doorway, watching the scene in front of him as Grace talked and laughed with the man she had introduced as her little brother Andrew. The Doctor had to admit that Grace was right; he did like Andrew. Or at least, he could get to like him. Andrew was very protective of his big sister, a trait that the Doctor suppose was probably hereditary given how Erik Holloway had greeted him. He was glad, though. While Grace could most definitely take care of herself, it eased the Doctor's mind to know that she didn't _have_ to take care of herself. No one should ever _have_ to take care of themselves, he thought. Being truly alone was a miserable experience, one the Doctor never wanted to experience again. It was bad enough that a corner of his mind, once filled with the echoes of thousands of fellow Time Lords, would be silent for the rest of his lives.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, gaining his attention. Turning his head, he saw Erik Holloway's slight smile. The latter nodded his head towards his daughter.

"You really care about her," Erik said matter-of-factly.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"

"The way you look at her," Erik replied, leaning on the other side of the doorframe. "I know the look of a man who's in love."

The Doctor lowered his eyes with a slight self-reproaching smile. It seemed everything and everyone, including the TARDIS, knew his feelings for Grace better than he did. When it came to giving of his hearts, he knew deep down that he was a coward. Oh, put him up against a whole battalion of Daleks or Cybermen. Put him up against a Judoon platoon upon the moon, against Sutek the Destroyer or even against the Master. He could handle them easier than he could handle the emotion of love. Love was his greatest enemy… and his most trustworthy friend. Love had kept him alive all these years despite being the last of his kind. Love had brought about all the best times of his life – from the first moment he remembered being in his mother's arms to the walk through Central Park he'd shared with Grace only a week before. But love had also ripped him apart to the point where he didn't think he could live another moment. He'd had his hearts broken so many times one would might have thought the pain of it would become easier. Just the opposite happened, though. Each hurt was worse than the last. He wasn't sure that he could handle another heartbreak so soon after the last, after losing Rose to another universe.

"It wouldn't work out," the Doctor told Erik. "She deserves a better life than the one she would have with me." He looked at Grace's father pointedly, his face quite serious. "She wouldn't be safe with me."

"I don't think any of us are truly safe, John. Not after all that has happened in the last three years." Erik gave him a half smile. "You remind me of me at your age."

The Doctor smirked slightly at Erik's statement, knowing full well that Grace's father had no idea how ridiculous it sounded to the Time Lord. "I do?"

Erik nodded slightly. "I met Janet just after joining UNIT and we fell in love shortly after." He didn't notice how the Doctor's body tensed slightly at the mention of the military organization. "She wanted to get married but I was afraid that being married to me would be too dangerous for her, with me being in the military." He paused. "I doubt that being a teacher is as dangerous as being in the military. That is, unless you are more than you say you are." He looked into the Doctor's eyes, his own eyes sizing the latter up. "Are you, John?"

The Doctor forced a smile on his face. He didn't like being looked over as if he were a lab specimen and, after the Sycorax incident and Canary Wharf, he was less than trusting of this world's defenses against alien invasion. Admittedly, he was more accepting of Torchwood with Jack Harkness now being in charge of it. But so far, Jack was the only person there he did trust. The verdict was still out on UNIT. While he had been scientific advisor, he'd received firsthand knowledge how that particular organization could easily slip from being a righteous defense of freedom to being a nightmare in waiting. The proof of that also lay in how many UNIT soldiers had followed the Master's order when he had taken over the Earth during the year that never was. On the other hand, he supposed it wasn't their fault, with the telepathic field affecting their will.

"I don't think there is a single person on this planet who is exactly who they say they are," the Doctor told Erik.

There was a long silence between the two men as they looked at each other, the air starting to get heavy before Erik broke the tension with a gentle smile and a laugh.

"Quite right!" he said, giving the Doctor a friendly slap on the arm, causing the latter to wince slightly. "You know what, John? You're all right." He walked away from the Doctor and over to Janet, who somehow found herself under mistletoe, to give her a kiss.

The Doctor exhaled audibly, feeling the tension leave his body. While the conversation with Erik Holloway wasn't exactly indicative of any kind of danger to himself, it did leave him with an uneasy feeling, like a cold wind running through his mind, warning of something coming. He'd had that same feeling on that London street in 2012 when he'd taking Rose to the Olympics. He didn't know what the warning was exactly at the time – only that a "storm" was coming - though now he knew it was a precognition of the future loss of his beloved Rose. This time, he at least knew that, whatever was coming, UNIT would be involved. He just hoped that UNIT was going to be an ally and not an enemy.

His thoughts were broken when he felt a pair of lips pressed against his. Frowning slightly, he looked to see Grace smiling at him mischievously. He couldn't help but return the smile.

"What was that for?" he asked, his tone matching the grin in his eyes.

Grace pointed above their heads. "Mistletoe," she teased him.

The Doctor huffed a slightly laugh. "I never did understand the tradition of snogging someone under a clipping of a poisonous plant. Oh, I could probably tell you where the tradition came from but still…"

Grace laughed gently at his words, pulling him with her. "Come on. Dinnertime."

He frowned at her words. "Dinner? What time is it?" He glanced at a clock as they walked to the dining room. "Grace, it's past seven o'clock! I thought you said this would only last six hours."

She stopped and gave him a wry grin. "I lied. We're staying overnight."

"Oi! That's entrapment!" he protested. Not that he could do anything to rectify the situation. She was, after all, the designated driver. "I didn't even pack a change of clothes!"

"It's in the car," Grace told him, again escorting him before gently pushing him into a chair. "I even packed the book you were reading, the one that was on the coffee table in the guest house. And I packed your glasses."

The Doctor sighed silently, knowing that he was pretty much stuck in the situation. He gave Grace a slight glare. "I'm getting you back for this," he warned her.

"Oh, I'm shaking," she taunted as the rest of the family settled in their seats.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was nearing eleven o'clock when the Doctor excused himself for the evening, going up to the room that had been prepared for him. It was a simple room with a full sized bed, a dresser with a mirror above it, a reading chair and a nightstand with a lamp on it. The room itself was decorated in blues and browns, nothing specifically masculine or feminine. It was obvious that the room was strictly a guest bedroom. Yet, the Doctor couldn't help but think how he could easily become camouflaged in the room, given his current and ongoing choice of wardrobe.

He smiled slightly as he saw the bag sitting on the bed. His grin grew after he opened it when he discovered that Grace had indeed packed not only a change of clothes, toiletries and a set of pajamas but also the book he had been reading and his glasses, the latter safely secure in a case.

The thought of Grace brought his mind to the gift that she had given him. He thoughtfully pulled the pocket watch from his jacket and looked upon it, still stunned by the elegant design etched on its surface. The Doctor knew that design well, which was why it had shocked him to see it on the watch. There was no doubt in his mind that the watch had been specially etched with the design. And yet, the Doctor couldn't recall a single instant where Grace could have seen it before.

"That little minx," he commented with a shake of his head as he tucked the watch back in his pocket before he picked up the book and the glasses case, taking them both to the chair that was situated a few feet from the bed. Setting them on the nightstand by the chair, he switched on the lamp and sat to enjoy his book. The question about the watch could wait until he and Grace were back home.

He'd read a full chapter, taking his time, when he heard the knock on the door. Raising his eyes from his book, his glasses perched just on the edge of his nose, he gazed at the door, silent as the door opened.

"Doctor?" Grace's soft voice called out.

"Come on in, Grace," he told her, closing his book without marking the page. He knew exactly where he left off, right down to the page number. He smiled as he saw her bringing a mug over to him. "Smells like cider," he commented, accepting the mug.

"What's Christmas without a hard cider nightcap?" Grace stated more than asked as she found a seat on the edge of the bed. She sipped on the cider and sighed slightly at the warmth it seemed to bring. "By the way," she started, looking into his eyes. "Thank you." Seeing him raise his eyebrows, she clarified, "For putting up with this. I know it isn't exactly your idea of a good time."

"Oh!" the Doctor exclaimed. "No, no! I'm having a great time," he insisted.

Grace looked at him with disbelief. "Really?"

"Absolutely!" he told her, a smile on his face. The smile faded slightly. "Well… there is your father."

She rolled her eyes. "Had he been giving you the 'you better be good to my daughter' lecture?"

"I don't mind the lecture." He took a drink of the hot cider before he continued. "It's just… you didn't tell me he used to work for UNIT."

Grace looked at him with questioning. "Sure, I did. I told you I was an Army brat."

The Doctor gave her a knowing look. "The United States Army and the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce are two completely different things, Dr. Holloway."

Grace sighed resignedly. "It was over ten years ago and he really was in the Army." She shrugged slightly. "I heard him mention UNIT a couple of times but I didn't know what it was about. Not really. Like some kind of international security team with scientific advisory tasks."

The Doctor gave a half of a grin at her words. "So they're keeping with that cover. Well, whatever works," he commented, leaning back to retrieve his cider.

Grace looked at him, studying the way he reacted to her words. She'd been around the Doctor long enough to know when he was hiding something from her for whatever unknown reasons he had. "UNIT's more than that, though. Otherwise, my father having been a part of UNIT wouldn't be rattling your chains so badly." She paused, leaning forward to look into his eyes. "So… what is it?"

The Doctor looked into his cider, gathering his thoughts before taking a drink. "UNIT's primary purpose is to investigate and combat paranormal and extraterrestrial threats to the Earth."

Grace chuckled slightly. "You sound like a recruitment ad."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, I was their scientific advisor for a short time." He frowned slightly at the memory. "Oh, that was ages ago. Must be… oh… four hundred years now. Well, from my perspective. For you, that would have been about thirty years ago."

"You worked for UNIT," Grace said for clarification, gaining a nod in response. "Then, why are you so concerned about Dad having worked for them?"

The Doctor took a deep breath and exhaled. "Recent events kind of put a bad taste in my mouth concerning anything to do with agencies who claim to be looking out for the welfare and defense of the Earth against alien invasion."

Grace nodded slightly. "In other words, you don't trust UNIT like you used to."

"Yup," the Doctor summarized with emphasis on the "p".

"Why not?"

He looked at her as if she had just asked him if he dyed his hair. "Hello? Alien?" He pointed to his chest. "Two hearts?" Seeing her give him what he had come to call the "don't push me" look, he paused before continuing. "It's not the same as it used to be. All the old school are gone – Lethbridge-Stewart, Yates, Benton." He shook his head slightly. "This new lot… I don't know. They're either too eager to shoot first and ask later or they'd rather just sit back and wait for the world to be taken over before they even think of acting, by which time it's too late to do anything." A slight grin started to spread on his face. "Oh, you should have seen me back then, Grace. "I was a bit of a dandy, all frills and cape and walking cane with a pocket watch…" He looked at her. "Speaking of which…" He dug into his jacket pocket and took out the watch she had given him. "Where did you see this before?" He turned the watch towards her, showing the intricate design on the face.

"It was the design in the big stained-glass window in the Cloister Room," Grace told him as she finished her cider.

"What stained-glass window?" the Doctor questioned with a frown. "There isn't a window in the Cloister Room…" His eyes softened with realization of what Grace meant. "But there was one when we first met. But that was nine years ago!" He smiled slightly. "You remember a pattern in a stained-glass window from nine years ago. Amazing!"

She shrugged slightly. "More like I couldn't get it out of my head for some reason." She looked at the Doctor, clearly amazed herself. "All the things that happened those two days with you and the Master and Lee and what do I remember with frightening clarity? A window. It's almost as if I were meant to remember it, as if the universe knew we'd meet again."

Grace's mention of the Master brought a sad, contemplative look to the Doctor's eyes. That New Year's Eve had been the last time, before the end of the universe and the year that never was, that the Doctor had encountered his most deadly enemy and, at one time, his closest friend. Even now, the memories of the odd relationship he'd had with the Master caused the Doctor's hearts to ache. After all the evil the Master had done, the Doctor couldn't hate him. He couldn't even hate the memory of him. He could only pity him and hope that his former friend had finally found peace in death.

"It's important, isn't it," Grace stated more than asked. Getting a confused look from the Doctor, she rephrased her words. "The window. It's important."

"The window?" The Doctor shook his head. "It was just a window. The design, however…" He tilted his head slightly, raising his eyebrows to emphasize his unspoken confirmation of its importance, his eyes focused again on the etching on the watch.

Grace's interest was immediately piqued by the Doctor's cryptic words. "So, what is it?" she asked, excitement at discovering something new about the Doctor reflecting in her eyes.

The Doctor brushed his thumb over the etching as if trying to gain something from the action. "The Seal of Rassilon," he murmured a response. "Bearing the name of the founder of Time Lord society. The symbol of the whole of Gallifreyan society, the seal of the Lord President of the High Council of the Time Lords. Wearing the Seal of Rassilon or displaying it prominently shows your allegiance to the Lord President or the President Elect." He seemed to think on his words for a moment before giving a half-amused huff. "Gallifreyan law stated that, during a state of extreme emergency, such as war or famine or plague, if the Lord President was unable to perform his or her duties and had not named a successor, the most recent and prior Lord President Elect took on the responsibilities of the position until elections could be held." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I suppose that, technically, that makes me the Lord President again." He again brushed his thumb over the symbol etched on the watch.

It was ironic, really. When he had run for the office during his fourth incarnation, it was a delaying tactic to avoid a death sentence. He had never expected to actually win by default – his opponent Chancellor Goth, as it turned out, had been working for the Master, who had killed him for failing to kill the Doctor. And when the Doctor had learned of his winning the Presidency, he'd fled from his responsibilities, taking up his new title of Lord President Elect only when it suited his purposes.

"You were the President of Gallifrey?" Grace asked with a raised eyebrow.

The Doctor's eyes were still focused on the watch in his hand. "It was about three hundred years ago," he told her as he thought about the oath he had taken when he returned to his home planet on the pretense of taking up the Presidency – he'd only gone home to save Gallifrey from a Sontaran invasion. Regardless of his reasons, he had, from that day on, been quite aware of the oath he took to defend Gallifrey and the laws of time. "By Gallifreyan law, I am the President of Gallifrey," he corrected himself. "The Last Lord President and the Last of the Time Lords." He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Never thought of that before. I suppose subconsciously I was trying to avoid thinking about that."

There was a long silence between the two as each thought about what the Doctor had said. Finally, Grace broke the silence softly.

"I'm sorry."

The Doctor looked at her with slight confusion. "What for?"

Grace tilted her head slightly. "Well… it obviously brings back bad memories for you," she explained, gesturing to the watch.

The Doctor's eyes widened slightly. "Oh! No, I love it!" Seeing the disbelief on Grace's face, he stood, his grip on the watch tightening ever so slightly. "Seriously, I think it's brilliant. Gorgeous! In fact, I'm… honored… that you gave this to me. On my world, there was no greater honor than to receive the Seal of Rassilon Medallion." He looked at the watch briefly. "Well, it's not a medallion but close enough. And it's especially meaningful coming from you." He gave her a genuine smile, looking into her eyes. "Thank you, Grace."

Seeing that the Doctor meant what he was saying, Grace gave a small smile, standing from the bed. "You're welcome," she told him. She walked around him to retrieve his empty mug before returning to face him. "And thank you again for today. It really does mean a lot to me. And for the necklace," she added, fingering the Celtic knot pendant on the dainty chain around her neck. She was thrilled to see the huge grin on the Doctor's face as she slowly left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

The Doctor's smile softened once the door was closed, his eyes still mentally following Grace down the hall and down to the kitchen. Taking a breath, he shook his head from the distraction and refocused on the watch in his hand, his smile still in place. With great care, he clipped the long chain to a metal hoop on the inside of his jacket pocket before tucking the watch itself into a small interior pocket in the dimensionally transcendental pocket, insuring that the watch would always be within easy reach. He let the chain hang outside of the pocket to remind him of the watch's presence.

Looking about the room again, he one again found his glasses and, perching them on his nose, he resumed his seat and the reading he had stopped when Grace had entered with the late night treat. It would be at least another seven hours or so before they returned home and the Doctor didn't feel the need to sleep.

**Oh, please, please review! Reviews bring about inspiration. Inspiration brings about more chapters! In other words… if you want to read more, I want reviews:D**

**Thanks for the good words so far!**


	6. Chapter 6: An Unwelcome Past

**Chapter 6**

Year Three

_Cardiff, Wales, __United Kingdom_

Captain Jack Harkness, head of the Torchwood Institute, rarely found the time to even drop by his apartment, much less actually stay there overnight. For Jack, the apartment acted more like a storage space, holding the few possessions that he had. There was a couch, a television, a table, a closet that held a few shirts and trousers, and a practically empty refrigerator. Tonight, despite the oddity of the action, he felt the sudden compulsion to go there. Then again, he couldn't think of a single thing about his life that wasn't odd.

His life had started in Earth's 51st century on the Boeshane Peninsula, a landmass that didn't quite exist yet in the 21st century - eventually plate tectonics would create the landmass out of parts of what was currently Southern California and Arizona. His life as a child model, and later as a teen model, had made him the poster child for the small community, bringing in tourist and trade dollars. That isn't to say that he was all looks, however. Looks don't get you into the Time Agency; a sharp mind with an innate understanding of time theory does. But it didn't hurt his being the first from the small peninsula to be accepted.

He'd really enjoyed being a time agent. The adventure of traveling through time, making a difference in defending the Earth - funny how it seemed that was his sole purpose of existing. He had loved the Time Agency and his partner, that latter in more ways than one. But eventually, if you are really a team player, you start to actually believe the rhetoric and you start obeying commands that you normally would never have obeyed. And you keep obeying those orders until finally they give you that one order that, no matter what you had done in the past, no matter how horrible you had been before, you just can't obey. Jack couldn't remember exactly what had happened but he knew himself well enough to know that the only reason the Time Agency would erase two years of his life from his memory was that Jack had been given an order he just couldn't obey. But what that order was, why he wouldn't obey it… hell, even what kind of person he was during those two years… alluded him, for the most part. He did know he wasn't a nice guy then, that he'd been known as the "go to" man for less desirable interrogations.

Over the last one hundred seventy plus years, though, he'd come to accept the person he had become thanks to his running into the most unique couple in the whole of the universe: the Last of the Time Lords and his human traveling companion Rose Tyler. The Doctor, as the Gallifreyan liked to be called, showed Jack a different life than he had ever remembered having. He'd changed Jack from a cowardly self-absorbed con-artist out to take revenge on the Time Agency for wiping his memory into a self-confident, brave and oft-times heroic man who no longer cared what he had forgotten. He now cared about defending his home and his people, the human race, and about justice. The Time Agency was his past… and sometimes it was just better to let the past die. It was, after all, the only thing about himself that could.

Die, that is. While Rose Tyler's loving act of bringing him back from the dead was a gift in many ways, it was also a curse. Not being able to die made Jack even more of a daredevil, taking on chances that no one else would even think of doing. It felt good to be able to save the world when no one else could because of the dangers involved. On the other hand, the curse side, Jack now understood the Doctor a lot more than he had ever before. It really was hell to keep on living while everyone you cared for grew old and died. Besides which, dying was never a pleasant experience and Jack could never get used to it, no matter how many times it happened to him. He knew he himself was growing older but at a much slower rate. He often wondered what he was going to look like a hundred thousand years from when he was now.

Tossing his car keys on the small coffee table in his loft apartment, he headed for the refrigerator and took out a beer. He'd already opened it and had taken a big gulp before he felt a familiar presence in the loft with him. It wasn't a pleasant familiarity either.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded in a dangerously low tone, not looking in the direction of the presence. It seemed to him that, no matter how often he tried to get on with his life, the past crept up on him to torment him.

"Is that how you greet all of your old friends?" the woman asked as she slowly approached him. She nodded her head to the beer in Jack's hand. "Aren't you going to offer me one?"

He gave her a slight glare before opening the refrigerator door and stepping aside. "Sure. Why not? Help yourself." It was clear in his voice, however, that this woman wasn't welcome in his home.

The woman took out a beer and, opening it, swallowed a mouthful before grimacing. "You actually drink this stuff?"

"Roni, what do you want?" Jack demanded, his patience, which wasn't much in the first place, now at its end. He let the refrigerator door close as he returned to his living room, his focus on his visitor.

Veronica Ramses was an attractive blond whose hair, when not pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck like now, went almost to her elbows. She was approximately three inches shorter than Jack but what she didn't have in height she made up with attitude. Her blue eyes blazed with authority and danger, a combination that Jack had found very attractive once upon a time…before he quit the Time Agency.

"I'm hunting a very dangerous man," Roni told him, sipping at her beer despite her previous verbal dislike for it. "A wanted criminal."

Jack shook his head slightly. "I don't work for the Time Agency anymore. Or hadn't you figured that out when I slammed my resignation on the Captain's desk and told him to go fuck himself sideways. Besides," he continued, looking harshly into her eyes, "isn't it against the law to interfere with Earth's pre-time travel past?"

"Oh, like that ever stopped you from getting the job done," Roni huffed. "Besides, I'm not interfering. I'm locating the suspect to take him off of Earth after which time he will be charged with the crimes he has committed." She looked at him plainly. "And I need your help."

Jack laughed slightly. "My help?" He glared at her. "What would make you think I would even consider helping you?"

"Because a lot of people may be hurt if you don't," Roni warned him. "And besides… you know him. I'd rather take him into custody without a fight and you can help me do that."

Jack looked at her for a long moment, getting a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he really wasn't going to like the answer to his next question.

"So, who is it that you're after?"

Roni dug into a breast pocket on her black uniform jacket and took out a picture. She handed it over to Jack, who looked at it with confusion before shaking his head.

"Never seen him before in my life," he told her, returning the photo.

"Oh, really?" Roni asked sarcastically. "Then what was that about two years ago when you, he and some woman named Martha Jones were declared as wanted terrorists, enemies number one, two, and three?"

"You really like to keep track of the past, don't you?" Jack commented, cringing internally at the memory. While it was true that everything, from the moment after American President Walker had been assassinated to the moment the Master's paradox machine was destroyed, had been wiped from history, the events leading up to the President's assassination had still happened, including the Master's feeding the media with false information. As far as the world was concerned, Prime Minister Harold Saxon was a madman who had somehow sweet-talked his way into power and had been assassinated by his own wife after he himself had killed President Walker.

"So, you do know him," Roni concluded, noting Jack's answer to her. "You do know the Doctor."

Jack gave her a meaningful look. "Enough to know that, whatever he's been accused of by the Time Agency, he's innocent. And I'm not going to put an innocent man in prison. Besides, he probably isn't even on Earth. Knowing him, he's visiting the Mutara Nebula or something."

Roni raised an eyebrow at him. "There is no such thing as the Mutara Nebula, Jack."

He gave her a grin that held no amusement. "And here I thought you liked the ancient Earth entertainment known as science fiction."

"And he is here," she continued as if Jack hadn't spoken. "On Earth." She could see the questioning in Jack's eyes. "Very reliable sources tell me that he's been here for a least a year. Not very smart for a wanted man."

Jack frowned slightly at her. "What's he wanted for?"

Roni gave him a wicked little grin. "I thought you weren't a time agent anymore, Jack." She moved a little closer to him, their bodies now only a few inches from each other. "But you could be again, you know. We could use a man like you, Jack."

He gave her a harsh, pointed look. "The answer is no, to both of your… suggestions. There is no way in hell I'm going back to the Time Agency. And there's no way I'm going to help you find the Doctor. You want him? You're going to have to find him yourself. But I know for a fact that you won't. Like you said, I know him. And I know he isn't going to let himself be trapped by the likes of you."

Roni gave him her empty bottle. "And you know that I will do whatever I have to, including bending the law here and there, to get my man. So here is my suggestion. Since you won't help me, stay out of it. If you interfere with my work, I'll take you down with him." She gave him a pointed look. "Do I make myself absolutely clear?"

"Clear as a newly made pane of glass," Jack told her. "Now…" He went to his front door and opened it. "Get out of my apartment."

Roni gave him a small smile. "You always were such a sweet-talker." Walking up to him, she gave him a peck on the lips. "See you around, Jack. Maybe next time we'll have a little time to… get reacquainted."

"In your dreams," he commented vehemently before closing the door behind her as she left. He exhaled after a moment, relieved that his ex-partner and former lover was out of the apartment. It bothered him that she had even showed up.

If Roni Ramses was looking for the Doctor, it meant one of three things: one, that the Doctor had committed one hell of a crime and the Time Agency sent their best after him; two, that Roni really did have the wrong man; or three that Roni has some kind of personal vendetta against the Time Lord. Jack seriously doubted the Doctor capable of any crime worthy of the Time Agency's attention. Roni's track record of getting the right man was so perfect that you could eat raw eggs off of it and not get food poisoning. That left only one possibility. Roni was going rogue and was out for blood. But why against the Doctor? What was more, why did she think that he was here on Earth when he could be anywhere, anytime in the universe? And why get Jack involved when she knew that he would never betray his friends? Sure, she had known him when he was a devious, conniving coward who mostly thought of only himself but he did have, even then, that one moral backbone.

The answer to the latter question was fairly obvious to Jack. Roni wanted Jack to lead her to the Doctor one way or another which only meant, in Jack's point of view, that the Doctor needed to be warned about Roni. He was just going to have to be very careful that Roni didn't get the same trail scent that Jack did.

With a plan now in mind, Jack waited fifteen minutes before going out onto his balcony. Pulling out his cell phone, he put in the needed speed dial number and pressed "talk". It took only two rings before the phone was answered on the other end.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he greeted with a grin on his face.

The woman on the other end of the line giggled slightly. "Jack, you are so bad!"

"And you love it," he countered. "Listen, you want to go out for a drink?"

There was a pause. "Jack, are you asking me out on a date?"

"And what if I am?" he questioned. "Come on. It's one drink with a friend. And don't give me any of that never mixing work with pleasure excuse." He paused. "Besides, you really do work too hard. You need to let your hair down every once in a while. You look good with it down." He waited a moment before pressing the issue gently. "Come on. One drink."

She sighed slightly. "I suppose I could use a break."

Jack frowned slightly at her words. "Are you still at the office?" The yawn on the other end confirmed his suspicions. "That's it. Meet me at the pub in fifteen minutes."

"It takes fifteen minutes to get there, Jack," she protested.

"Then I guess you'd better get going," he told her.

"You aren't going to let up on this, are you?"

"Do you want me to make it an order, Doctor?"

"Fine. I'm on my way out right now. Sir." Jack could almost hear the salute in her voice.

"That's my girl," he encouraged. "See you in fifteen." Without another word, he ended the conversation, tucking the cell phone back into his trousers before going back into the apartment. Grabbing his keys and his overcoat, he quickly left the apartment.

As he slipped into his car, he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, the dark sedan just down the street and its lone occupant.

"You're losing your touch, Roni," he murmured mostly to himself. He had no doubt that the car now had a tracking device on it. But he couldn't remove it without his ex-partner noticing his actions. He smiled slightly at the thought. It had been a long time since he'd been in this kind of game of wits. It would even be fun if it weren't for the fact that a friend could be in danger.

He arrived at the pub only a minute before the rendezvous time and waited patiently outside. A moment later, a familiar red car pulled into the parking lot and, a moment after that, an attractive black woman approached him with a slight grin.

"Hi," he greeted, his charming smile plastered on his face as he pulled her towards him so that his lips were beside her right ear. "We're being watched," he whispered to her. "Just go with it." Then, without warning, he kissed her firmly on the lips and escorted her into the pub.

"Sorry about that, Martha," he told her as they found a table. "I had to make it convincing." He ordered two beers when the server came to the table before focusing on his friend, noting the look on her face.

"I'm not sure who is worse, you or the Doctor," Martha Jones, doctor of medicine, replied to his statement. "I'm guessing this isn't really about drinks with a friend."

"Not exactly," Jack replied, "though it is good for you to get away from the office once in a while." He looked around, making sure that his current rival wasn't close by. Then, turning to Martha, he continued. "I needed some place very public and very loud to talk to you. The pub sounded about as good as any place. The louder it is, the less likely she'll be able to eavesdrop on our conversation. But try to keep your back to the crowd. She can lip read."

Martha glanced slightly over her shoulder, questioning on her face, before returning her gaze to her friend and boss. "Jack, what's going on that couldn't be said on the phone or at the base?"

"I don't want Torchwood involved in this," he told her. "I have a feeling that Roni's got some kind of access to our records." Seeing the confusion on Martha's face, he took her hand with a small grin. "Sorry. I'm doing it again, being all mysterious. I'm too used to being around the others. They wouldn't understand. They didn't go through what we did." He took a deep breath and exhaled. "You know I used to be a time agent." He noted Martha's slight nod. "Well, I had a partner. Her name is Veronica Ramses… Roni. She came to my apartment less than half an hour ago and asked for my help looking for someone. She claims that he's a wanted criminal and that the Time Agency sent her to apprehend him."

"And?" Martha asked, leaning forward to catch each word he said. There had to be a good reason for Jack to be so secretive and yet confide in her with all this information.

Jack paused, again making sure that there wasn't anyone nearby to overhear them. "It's the Doctor. She's looking for the Doctor."

"What?" Martha whispered tightly, her tone reflecting her shock. Seeing Jack nod slightly, she shook her head slightly. "The Doctor's not a criminal!" she emphasized just as the drinks they ordered were brought to their table.

Jack waited until the server had gone before replying to Martha's blunt statement. "I know that. You know that. And I seriously doubt that the Doctor could have done anything the Time Agency might remotely consider criminal."

"So, what's really going on?"

Jack shook his head. "I think Roni's out for revenge for something. I just wish I knew what." He looked into Martha's eyes. "That's why I called you. You told me once that you could call him at any time. Can you still?"

Martha blinked at his question. "Wait a minute. You want me to just call him and ask if he's done something to piss off your ex-partner?"

"At the very least we need to warn him about her," Jack put in. "Roni is a very dangerous woman. Whether or not the Doctor did anything to get her on his ass is irrelevant. What matters is that she thinks he's responsible for something and she will stop at nothing to get her man." He took a deep breath before added the clincher. "And she says he's here on Earth. Now. And has been for at least a year."

Martha shook her head. "Impossible. The Doctor doesn't stay anywhere for long. Unless… he's already in trouble."

"Yeah, I was thinking that too," Jack admitted, leaning back in his chair. "In which case, we still have to find him. If he's in trouble, he'll need our help."

Martha nodded in agreement, pulling out her cell phone. Dialing the appropriate number, she waited for a reply. Looking at Jack as the phone rang, she swallowed slightly.

"He's not answering," she told him.

Jack reached over and touched her hand. "Hang up. Don't leave a message. The last thing we need is for Roni to go through phone records and find a message warning the Doctor. You'd be amazed how easy it is to track a cell phone with just someone picking up their voicemail."

"What do we do then?" Martha asked, clearly concerned.

"The only thing we can do," he told her. "We keep trying to find him but subtly. Roni Ramses is the best time agent I've ever had the misfortune of knowing. She's going to use every means in her grasp to find the Doctor, even if it's using us to do her dirty work." He looked at her pointedly. "Keep trying to get hold of him at random intervals and don't leave any messages. We'll erase the records of each phone call."

"What if she finds him before we do?"

Jack gave her a grin. "Roni's a gloater. Believe me, she'll brag about it to me if she finds him first. Which I pray she doesn't." He looked around again. "We need to get back to base and erase that last call from your phone records. Can't be too careful around Ramses."

Martha nodded in agreement, completely confident in Jack's assessment of the situation. Finishing the beer in front of her, she left the payment and tip before following Jack out the door. The two took Martha's car to Torchwood's base to make the necessary alterations to Martha's phone records.

xxxxxxxxxxx

**Must I beg on my hands and knees? Please please please review! Reviews, like bananas, are good!**


	7. Chapter 7: The Doctor's Lesson

_Author's notes: The story about Morbius was described in minor detail in the serial "The Brain of Morbius" with the Fourth Doctor. There are aspects that I have added on my own that were never revealed in that serial._

_Again, thank you all for your reviews. I really do appreciate them and ask for your continued input. I especially would like input from those of you who have marked this story as a favorite but have not left reviews. Tell me what you think of my progress._

_Again, thank you very much!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 7**

The Doctor rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his desk chair, ignoring the exhaustion that seemed to be slowly seeping into his bones. The school year was nearly done but it meant another week of intensive paper and test grading for him. It didn't help in the least that Mrs. Lambert, the chemistry teacher at the school he was teaching at, had a family emergency and resigned from her position. With only two months left in the school year, it was decided that the remaining science teachers – meaning him and Mr. Pope – would take up her classes as well as their own.

"Happy-slappy hoodies with ASBOs and ringtones," the Doctor complained mostly to himself as he stood up and stretched. What he wouldn't do for a decent cup of Zaphodian tea. The leaves themselves took years to cultivate and, thus, the tea was highly valued and extremely expensive. But, it was also well known for its amazing healing properties. Nothing rejuvenated the mind and body quite like the rare delicacy of that tea.

"Think I still have some in the kitchen," he muttered to himself, turning his head towards the TARDIS, which sat on the other side of the main room of the guest cottage he called home. Wiping his face to help his blood to circulate where it was most needed, namely his brain, he went into the TARDIS and down her halls into the kitchen. It took several minutes for him to find the much sought after herbal remedy before he returned to the living room of the guest cottage.

While he was away, the ringing of a phone hidden in his overcoat filled the room before suddenly going silent.

"There we are," he told himself as he walked through the house and into its kitchen. "Just what the Doctor ordered." He smiled to himself as he prepared the tea and then, as it brewed, returned to the work at hand. Twenty more papers to grade and then he would be finished for the evening. There was still the matter of working some more on the TARDIS. He still couldn't believe how the time seemed to drag. Two years, one month, fifteen days. That's how long it had been since the TARDIS had crash-landed on Grace Holloway's front lawn. And the beginning of his third year trapped on Earth was proving to be just as uneventful as the last two years.

The Doctor had become engrossed in grading the latest paper, a particularly interesting theorem from his star pupil, and hadn't heard the door to the guest cottage open. Nor did he notice Grace going into the kitchen and finishing preparing the tea he had started brewing. What he did notice was the mug suddenly blocking his vision. He looked up with surprise.

"Sorry," Grace told him, waiting for him to accept the mug. "I said hi but you were a little preoccupied. Didn't want you to burn your tea."

"Thank you," the Doctor murmured, taking the mug from her hand. He sipped at the hot brew and exhaled with contentment. "Exactly what I needed," he commented, gaining a smile from his dear friend and landlady.

"Smells good," she told him, pulling up a chair and sitting beside him. "Not sure I've ever smelled anything like it."

"Zaphodian tea," the Doctor told her. "Very rare, very expensive, and guaranteed to work miracles." He took another sip. "Like getting a shot of adrenaline but without the negative side effects." He gave her a look. "Well, for most creatures in the universe. Wouldn't suggest you having any. Could be dangerous. The last human I saw drink this stuff went a little… hyperactive."

Grace laughed slightly. "Sometimes I swear you're just making all this stuff up just to keep me out of your kitchen."

The Doctor smiled at her. "Go ahead then. Try some. But don't say I didn't warn you. I'd hate to have to strap you down in the TARDIS' medbay."

"I think I'll believe you this time," she countered before looking at the pile on the desk before them. "Final papers?"

The Doctor nodded. "It's amazing how some of these children don't understand the basics of chemistry while others show so much intelligence that it makes me wonder what they are doing in my beginner's class when they should be in two or three class grades above their peers." He sighed slightly. "The mysteries of the human mind. Now if the really talented ones would stop using their creativity for practical jokes…"

Grace chuckled. "As I recall, you told me that you were a bit of a practical joker when you were at the Academy."

"I was bored!"

"Well, maybe they are bored too."

The Doctor shrugged slightly at her words. "Well, regardless, I still have twenty papers to grade this weekend and I'd rather get them done tonight, especially if we are going to the opera tomorrow night."

"Oh, we are most definitely going," she told him firmly. "Do you know how long it has been since I saw a good opera?"

"One year, two months, four days," the Doctor supplied, giving her a smile. "And it was with that fellow Bruce." He raised an eyebrow. "What is it with you and men whose names start with the letter B? Bruce, Brian, Benjamin…"

Grace rolled her eyes. "Don't go lecturing me about who I date, Doctor. You're my tenant, not my father."

"I'm just saying that you don't seem to have the best of luck when it comes to men whose first initial is the first consonant of the English alphabet," he pointed out.

"Well, that was a year ago," she countered. "Besides, it wouldn't have worked out with him. He sneaked out in the middle of it to go check on the baseball game."

The Doctor turned to her. "Well, I can assure you that I will not be leaving the opera for any reason other than the most dire emergency. Besides, I love Puccini. He brought us together." His grin was almost infectious.

Grace shook her head slightly. "Not exactly the best way to meet someone, I'd say. I mean I did kill you after all." She returned his grin. Since the Doctor had come back in her life that fateful day two years before, the incident in the hospital in San Francisco had turned into a private joke between them. The Doctor just continued to grin before turning to work on the papers in front of him.

Grace sat beside him in silence for a long moment, thinking about the man in front of her. There was so little that she knew about him. The Doctor really didn't talk much about himself, only when the circumstances brought about the conversation. He'd only brought up the Time War when Grace had suggested that he might be able to get help in repairing the TARDIS by contacting his own people. Literally the only time he had volunteered information about himself was last year when he showed her the Cloister Room. She still was trying to understand his motivations concerning that. And he had mentioned someone named Rose every once in a while, almost with a kind of reverence. The way he had said the name, Grace knew that whoever this Rose was, she was someone extraordinarily special to him. She could even dare conclude that he had been in love with her. What happened to her, she still didn't know.

What she did know was that she wanted to learn everything about the Doctor, more than his almost obsessive love of bananas and other miscellaneous foodstuff. And there was only one way that she knew of to get the information she wanted. Whether he would give her that information was another issue.

"Doctor," she started, gaining his attention. Seeing his raised eyebrows, she continued. "You never told me your name."

The Doctor frowned at her slightly. "I'm the Doctor," he said as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

Grace sighed slightly, shaking her head. "Yes. I know. But surely you have a name. I mean a real name, not a title. I mean, your parents didn't name you Doctor after you were born, did they?"

He turned his head towards the papers in front of him, trying to ignore Grace's question. He should have known the issue would have risen, especially with Grace. For some reason, the answer of 'because I said so' just never worked on her.

"No, they didn't," he admitted. "I had a different name when I was a child."

"What was it?" she asked gently.

He frowned at her. "Does it really matter? I've been going by the Doctor for the past eleven hundred years. I see no reason to bring up a name I haven't gone by for a millennium." He looked into her eyes and saw the curiosity embedded there. Shaking his head, he returned his focus to the papers. "My name's the Doctor. That's all you need to know."

"Is that what you told Rose when she asked you?" Grace questioned.

"_She_ didn't press the issue," he replied. He frowned slightly, clearly involved in grading the papers. "It's been good enough for every person I've ever traveled with."

"Well, it's not good enough for me," she countered with a huff. "I don't see what the big deal is. I mean, when I was a little girl everyone called me Dee. Doesn't bother me."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. It was clear that he wasn't going to be able to finish grading the papers until after this conversation was over. "The name I was born with doesn't bother me, Grace. It just isn't my name anymore."

"Why not?"

"Why isn't your name Dee any more?" he pointed out to her.

"It is Dee," she told him plainly. "Grace Dee Holloway. I just decided not to go by my middle name, as was tradition. What about you? Why the Doctor?"

The Doctor sighed loudly, leaning back in his chair. "It's just the name I chose. Why do you have to press the issue?"

"Why do you have to try to bury it?"

"I'm not burying it," he growled under his breath.

"Certainly sounds like you are to me."

Closing his eyes, the Doctor rubbed his face before giving Grace an annoyed look. "You just aren't going to give up on this, are you?" Seeing her raised eyebrows, indicating that she was waiting for an answer she would accept, he shook his head. "We all have secrets, Grace. And I would appreciate if you would allow me to have mine. I have my reasons for hiding my birth name from the universe."

"What reasons?" Grace questioned, her voice softening when she saw the look in his eyes. It was plain that the reasons were close to his hearts. She watched as he turned his head and gave her a hard glare, telling her that she had pushed too far on the issue, silencing her immediately on it. "I'm sorry," she told him softly. "I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes."

"That is an underestimation, Dr. Holloway," the Doctor told her, his glare still firmly in place. Seeing the genuine contrition on her face, however, his own eyes softened. "Apology accepted." He attempted to return to grading the papers but found that he couldn't properly focus on them. Sighing he leaned back. "I think I need a break from this." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the fob watch Grace had given him, opening it to look at the time. "It's not even seven o'clock. So, how about dinner? Steak and chips? Mandarin? If the TARDIS were working properly we could go to Lenev Three. Best pseudo-Chinese food in the universe."

Grace stood, chuckling slightly at his words. Funny how the Doctor could change the mood of the whole room just with a couple of words and a smile. "Chinese sounds good to me. I'll just make the order."

The Doctor watched as Grace went back to the main house before he put away the papers he had been grading. The rest would just have to wait until tomorrow morning, though that meant a very busy day for him with the opera being that night. At least it was the weekend. So what if he had to stay up one of those nights finishing the grading and preparations for Monday's classes. It wouldn't be the first time he had done it.

Standing, he made his way to the main house and, going into the living room, slumped into the couch with comfortable ease. Delivery was always served and eaten in the main house, mostly out of convenience. The Doctor smiled slightly as he heard Grace finish the order, asking for extra hot sauce to go with it. He then, a couple of minutes later, felt her slump onto the couch beside him, handing him a bottle. He looked at it with slight questioning before opening the cold tea and taking a drink.

"I left that Zaphodian tea sitting on my desk," he commented. "It's cold now. It can be heated up later. Won't taste the same, though." He looked at the bottled tea in his hand and shrugged slightly before continuing to drink it. "Not the best in the world," he commented.

"Well, I like it," Grace countered with a grin. It had almost become a tradition in the Holloway house for the Doctor to make some kind of comment about how bottled tea wasn't the best in the world before accepting it and drinking it amicably. Grace knew he actually liked the stuff.

The two fell into an amicable silence as they enjoyed their beverage, waiting for their dinner to arrive at the door. It didn't take long, however, for the silence to be broken, this time with the Doctor's voice.

"It's self-preservation."

Grace frowned slightly, looking at him with questioning.

"Hiding my name. It's self-preservation," the Doctor clarified. "There was a tradition on Gallifrey to name the second child after their mother's father. I was the second child born to my parents. I had no problem going by my given name. I was even a little proud of how unusual it was. And then Councilor Morbius came to power. He was absolutely convinced of the genetic superiority of the Gallifreyan race and of the Time Lords. He also advocated the Time Lords using their great power to conquer the universe rather than watch over it. The High Council rejected his ideas so he went and created an army of his own. There were a few Time Lords who shared his beliefs and followed him. There were a few civilians as well. The rest of his army, though, consisted of mercenaries who wanted the secrets of time travel and immortality." He paused, a haunted look in his eyes as he thought about that time.

"Chaos reigned on Gallifrey for a short time as Morbius' followers took to the streets and hunted down anyone who wasn't a pure-blood Gallifreyan. Not that there were very many cross-breeds or non-Gallifreyans." He paused, deep sadness etched on his face. "They murdered my mother in her home; my father had died about twenty years before – an accident. My brother fled into the Wastelands to avoid the slaughter that the seemed to move like a tidal wave throughout Gallifrey.

"My son brought Susan to me, begged us to get out of the city as quickly as possible. We slipped into the shipyards, borrowed a TARDIS, and ran. He joined the ranks of Time Lords fighting against Morbius. The High Council finally defeated Morbius and his treacherous army, executing every last one of them whom they could find. There were still a few out there, which meant to protect my granddaughter and myself I had to keep my heritage buried so that Morbius' followers would never find us. I returned home very briefly after Morbius was executed and took my mother's garden into my custody. But by then, I'd already broken a few Laws of Time and the High Council was cracking down hard on offenders, determined not to have another Morbius in their midst. So I ran again and didn't stop running, even after the Time Lords lifted my exile."

Grace was silent for a long moment as she thought about what the Doctor had told her. She felt horrible for pressing him for answers but, at the same time, was glad to know a little more about the man she called her best friend, the man she knew she loved. She slowly took a breath and looked up at his face, seeing the glaze that covered his eyes whenever he dealt with sad memories.

"What happened to your brother, your son… your granddaughter?" she asked gently, not wanting to hurt him any further than she obviously had but also wanting to know the rest of the story.

The Doctor took a deep breath and exhaled. "I don't know exactly what happened to Susan. She was still just a civilian when we left Gallifrey, hadn't gone through the Endowment Ceremony that would have made her a Time Lord. I left her in the 22nd century to marry. The others… my brother and son… died in the Time War. For all I know, Susan could have died in the Time War as well." He closed his eyes and slumped further into the couch. "I could have killed her myself when I destroyed Gallifrey." He sniffed slightly, burying the memories quickly, not wanting to dwell on the painful past. "Point is… I'm the Doctor. That's the only name I will go by other than some human alias."

"Like Mr. John Smith of London," Grace stated with a slight smile.

"Just so," the Doctor agreed. Even as he spoke, the doorbell rang. He glancing over his shoulder as he stood up, he commented on how fast the delivery was before going to answer the door. An exchange of food for money later and the Doctor carried the dinner into the kitchen before ripping open the bag and pulling out container after container.

"Hungry?" Grace commented with a laugh as the Doctor ladled two or three scoops of each entrée on his plate and started eating before he was even seated at the kitchen table.

"Grading papers starves a man," he commented. He continued to eat, waiting for Grace to make herself a plate and sit before speaking any further. "I'm seriously thinking of quitting teaching after the end of the semester." Seeing Grace's surprised look, he raised his eyebrows. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Grace told him before tilting her head slightly and admitting the truth. "I just thought you were happy teaching. You seemed happy, anyway."

"I like teaching," the Doctor agreed. "I don't like grading papers and tests and having to follow the rules that the school administration says I have to follow, telling me what I can or cannot teach." He took a mouthful of lo mien and spoke with his mouth full. "What do they know about physics and chemistry?"

"I'm sure that you could run circles around them with what you know. And we aren't eating Tangalonian food so don't talk with your mouth full."

He rolled his eyes slightly at her words. "It's not like we're in public. I could always tutor for extra money," he continued the conversation without a missed beat. "The whole concept of earning money is still so odd to me. You humans are so… materialistic."

"Oh, and you aren't?" Grace teased. "Don't forget. I've seen your DVD collection." Seeing the Doctor shrug his concession, she smiled slightly. "Speaking of which… dinner and a movie?"

The suggestion was accepted readily and, after dinner was finished, the dishes were washed, and the leftovers were put away, the two of them found themselves sitting in the TARDIS' theater, watching a gangster movie from the 1940s.

Grace didn't notice her eyes growing heavy. Nor did she notice how she had moved slowly closer to the Doctor, eventually rested her head on his shoulder as she drifted asleep.

The Doctor, for his part, didn't really notice how his arm gently moved around Grace's shoulder until he heard the soft sigh coming from her lips as she slept. He looked down at her with slight surprise, noticing their positions. For a split second, a flicker of panic filled him as he wondered what to do. He couldn't just wake her and cause her that kind of embarrassment. Neither could he just let her be for the same reason. He doubted it would go over well for her to discover that she had fallen asleep in his arms.

Fortunately, he remembered that she was a deep sleeper and that it would be quite easy to just take her back to her bedroom. Carefully extricating himself from her weight, he lifted her from the couch and slowly carried her out of the TARDIS, out of the guest cottage and into the main house. The stairs up to her bedroom weren't an obstacle for him and he soon was gently lowering her sleeping form onto her bed. He delicately removed her shoes before pulling a cover over her. Then, without even thinking about his actions, he leaned down and kissed Grace gently on her forehead. "Sweet dreams," he whispered softly to her before slowly leaving her bedroom.

Only when he was out in the hallway and the door was closed did he fully realize what he had done and the implications of his actions. They were right, every single one of them from Mr. Pope at the school to Grace's father to even the TARDIS.

The Doctor, the Last of the Time Lords, the Last President of Gallifrey, the Oncoming Storm, the Defender of the Universe… was in love with Dr. Grace Holloway.


	8. Chapter 8: Aggressive Boredom Therapy

**Chapter 8**

"Doctor?" Grace called out as she let herself into the guest cottage. Not getting a response, she looked around before moving towards the TARDIS' open door. "Doctor?" she repeated, poking her head in through the door.

Finding no one in sight, she slowly walked into the timeship, a smile on her face. It had been several months since the last time she had stepped into the ship and she could finally see the slow progress in the repairs that had started over two years ago. The most notable repair was the ceiling, which no longer needed the wooden supports that had held it up for so long. The second most notable difference was just the general feel of the ship. The TARDIS, which had for a long time felt dark and filled with despair, now felt hopeful though a bit sad. Having seen her share of patients, Grace couldn't help comparing the way the TARDIS felt to her to a patient who had stopped feeling sorry for his or herself and had started the long road to recovery with a renewed determination despite being stuck in a hospital bed.

"Well, you seem to be doing better," Grace commented, looking up at the ceiling – it only seemed natural when talking to the TARDIS, something she was still getting used to and didn't quite understand yet.

The ship's hum shifted slightly as if agreeing with Grace's assessment of her well being.

Grace looked around the console room, wondering where the Doctor could be. "I assume the Doctor is here somewhere. His motorcycle is still in the garage."

Again, the humming shifted in agreement.

"So, where is he?" She didn't get any kind of answer this time. "Great. I guess I have to find him myself."

Taking a deep breath, she went through the door that led to the rest of the rather extensive timeship, hoping that she didn't get lost in it as she had the last time. Fortunately, the TARDIS seemed to be cooperating with her and she soon found herself walking down a vaguely familiar hallway.

"Doctor?" she called out.

As if an answer to her call, a loud crash and a joyous laugh echoed into the hallway. Following the sound, she opened a door… and promptly ducked out of the way. She didn't know what had flown past her head but she was pretty sure that it was heavy and wasn't designed for flight. Gasping for breath, she turned her head first to the projectile and then to the projector who stood in the middle of the room, his clothes as wildly askew as his hair.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Grace exclaimed, clearly stunned by the sight of her normally calm and collected Doctor looking as if he'd just been in a noogie fight and lost.

The Doctor looked at her with questioning before looking down at himself and then grinning like a maniac. "Aggressive boredom therapy," he finally replied, clearly pleased with his words.

She stared at him as if he'd gone completely insane, which would not have surprised her if it wasn't for the fact that he had seemed perfectly rational only the day before. "What?" she questioned, looking around the room with wide eyes. From the appearance of it, she supposed it was a storage room at one time. What it was now really was anyone's guess since anything and everything that might have been in a box was now littering the floor and shelves in a haphazard fashion. As she gaped at her surroundings, his words slowly filtered through her mind. "Wait a minute…" she said, still stunned. "You did this because you were bored?"

The Doctor nodded slightly. "Pretty much. Yeah." He paused at the look on her face. "Grace, it was either this or go completely mad from inactivity! There's only so much I can do to fix the TARDIS while she regrows and heals. And don't you dare even bring up teaching again as a way to keep myself occupied, thank you very much. Any more domesticity and you're going to have an insane Time Lord on your hands."

Grace dared to take a couple of steps further into the room, point to the mess on the floor. "You did this… because you were bored," she repeated, shaking her head.

"As I said, aggressive boredom therapy," the Doctor told her. "Just make one hell of a mess and clean it up again. Almost as good as getting your hands dirty under the console." He grimaced slightly. "The TARDIS won't let me tinker under the console until she is fully repaired. Even gave me a shock to keep me away. Cheeky girl."

"You… did this… out of boredom," Grace reiterated. Slowly, the ridiculousness of the situation got the better of her and she started to chuckle and then laugh.

"What? What's the matter?" the Doctor questioned with concern, stepping over several small piles to get to her. "Grace?"

She looked up into his eyes, laughing even harder at the look on his face. "You are crazy! Absolutely, totally, and completely crazy! How many times have you wrecked this room?"

"This room? About fifty or sixty times," he admitted. "Mind you, cleaning it up isn't nearly as fun as messing it up." He frowned slightly. "Which reminds me, I have ten or eleven other storage rooms to clean up."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Grace giggled. "How long have you been doing this?"

The Doctor sniffed slightly. "About a year and a half now." The answer brought another round of hard laughter from the cardiologist before him. "You try teaching those mongrels they put in my classroom and see how long it takes you to find stress relief."

Grace exhaled in a desperate attempt to calm herself. "Doctor, you aren't teaching anymore."

He shifted slightly. "Like I said…"

"Aggressive boredom therapy," Grace concluded for him. "There are more constructive means to relieve boredom."

He gave her a pointed look. "Earth's pop culture – music and movies and popcorn - only goes so far, Grace. But all this domesticity… dinners and cleaning house and…"

"What do you call this?" she questioned, pointing to the mess at their feet. "And don't say aggressive boredom therapy."

"Organizing my tools," he countered.

"After throwing them around everywhere?"

"Well, it isn't washing dishes," the Doctor emphasized.

Grace laughed again, this time noticing for the third, fourth or fifth time his state of disarray that matched the mess he had made. "You look ridiculous!"

"Blimey, I must be a bad influence on you," he commented, bending down to start the task of cleaning the mess. "My rudeness is rubbing off."

She laughed harder, gaining a glare from him.

"Stop it," he insisted.

Tears started to trickle from her eyes as she held her stomach, trying to catch a breath between laughs.

"No, really. Stop it," he pressed, though his eyes reflected that he was starting to share in her amusement. "I mean it." The grin seeped out from his lips. It didn't take long for him to join in her laughter, hugging her for several moments before the two separated, both wiping tears of laughter from their faces.

"I think I'll just close the door and hide it," the Doctor finally said, looking about himself.

"Oh, no, you don't," Grace told him, pointing at him with feigned rebuke. "All little boys have to clean their rooms before they can go out and play."

"Is that so?" he replied, putting his hands on his hips in slight defiance. "What if I refuse?"

"Well, then…" Grace started, moving closer to him. "I'd have to tickle you," she teased.

"I'm not ticklish," he protested.

Grace grinned widely. "I bet you are! I bet you are so ticklish." She raised her hands in a threatening manner.

The Doctor took a step back, shaking his head. "No, I'm not."

"Really? Then why are you running away from me?"

"I'm not running away from you," he told her as he continued to back away. "I just… I have a lot to do. You know… eleven or twelve rooms to clean… including this one. That takes time." He tripped over a small pile as he backed away, stumbling towards the back of the room as Grace hurried to try to catch him.

The two slammed into the back wall, Grace pressed against him by her own weight. Slowly, she pushed from the wall, her eyes rising to find his. For a long moment, the two of them looked at each other, studying each other… watching each other.

The Doctor swallowed tightly and then sniffed nervously. "Umm… I think that maybe…"

The kiss was intense and possessive, stunning the Doctor into silence. He found himself returning the kiss with equal passion, his fingers tangling themselves into her hair. Rassilon, she tasted so good! She felt so good pressed against him, trapping him against the wall. He felt her hands moving down the length of his body, unbuttoning his jacket and dress shirt as she went. With each successive button, he felt himself falling deeper and deeper into the spell, his own kisses on her face and neck becoming more demanding, encouraging him to follow her lead. Slowly, he started to undo the buttons on her blouse.

"I want you," Grace whispered into his ear, the sound of her lustful panting sending fire through his body.

"Oh, yes!" he murmured enthusiastically. He wanted her too, wanted her so terribly that it was starting to physically hurt. He didn't even think twice about her undoing his trousers and reaching in to slowly caress his abdomen. Slowly, teasingly getting lower and lower and lower and…

"No!" he exclaimed as his eyes snapped open, his hands pushing Grace away forcibly, causing her to stumble back a few feet. Panting uncontrollably, he looked up at Grace's startled and clearly pained expression. His hearts felt as if they would shatter into a trillion pieces right at that moment. He never wanted to hurt Grace and yet here he had done just that.

"Grace…" he started, his voice shaking from a mixture of guilt and growing need that, if he hadn't done something, would have gone somewhere he wasn't sure Grace was willing to go. "I'm sorry. Really, truly, I'm so sorry."

"I don't understand," Grace finally said after a long, tense moment. "Don't you want me? You certainly indicated so a moment ago. And then you just push me away as if…" She took a shaky breath, filled with heartache. "…as if I'm some sort of disease!"

The Doctor closed his eyes and turned his head away for a moment, swallowing tightly. How could he make her understand? Returning his gaze to her, he tried desperately to assure her. "It isn't you. I swear. It's me." He paused. "Grace… I'm not human."

"So?" she countered, her anger starting to mount. "I know you aren't human! I don't care! I want you! I NEED you!" She took several deep breaths. "I love you," she admitted softly. She bit her lip as she stepped several times away from him. "Are you really so prejudice that you can't accept love from a mere human? Is that what I am to you? Something to be played with?"

"No!" the Doctor replied to her cruelty. "Oh, Grace! How could you think that of me? If you'd just give me a chance to explain…"

"Explain what?" she yelled at him. "How you can be such an inconsiderate asshole?"

"YES!" he shouted back, silencing her with the single word. She hadn't expected him to admit to being at fault.

A long moment passed between the two of them as they looked at each other. Finally, the Doctor broke the silence, his voice very gentle.

"Grace," he said, going to her, looking into her eyes. He swallowed and turned his head, not wanting to fall once again into the trap those eyes meant for him. "Grace, please… don't say anything until I'm done. Hear me out before you decide to rip my hearts apart." Looking up, he saw the stunned look on her face and his hearts melted with anguish for how that had hurt her. Slowly walking up to her, he reached up and gently touched her face. "Amazing Grace," he whispered lovingly. "I do want you." He swallowed tightly, his hearts tight in his chest. Why couldn't he say those three words in return? He decided that keeping it more formal was safer at the moment. "It works differently for me. And I don't mean physically as much as biologically."

Grace frowned slightly. "Doctor… you aren't making sense."

He gave a weak smile. "I suppose it sounds that way." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts on how to explain the situation as delicately as possible. "Grace, you know how old I am…"

"Don't tell me this is about age," Grace sighed.

"Why do you jump to conclusions before you've heard everything?" the Doctor countered. "Please let me finish first."

"Sorry." She had the good graces to look properly chastised.

"You know how old I am," he continued. "In those twelve hundred years, how many times do you think I've been married?"

Grace frowned at him. "What does that have to do with…" she started.

"Just answer the question," the Doctor interrupted, giving her a pointed look.

She sighed. "Probably more times than Elizabeth Taylor."

He grinned with slight amusement. "Oh, I doubt that's even possible," he teased gently. His face grew solemn a moment later. "Three. I've been married only three times."

Grace looked at him with wide eyes. "They must have lasted quite a while."

The Doctor shook his head. "No. They didn't. Well, two of them didn't last long enough…" He sniffed slightly, pushing the memories back. Now was not the time to go into those kinds of details. He had to stay focused on what he was trying to tell the woman he loved so much it literally hurt. "Including those three, how many lovers do you think I've had?"

"That's getting a little too personal, don't you think?" she asked, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

"Three," the Doctor answered without pressing her. Seeing the slightly stunned look on Grace's face, he spoke the conclusion he saw in her eyes. "Other than my three wives, I've had no lovers. Oh, many, many passionate encounters but none of them went any further than snogging each other until neither of us could breathe." Even as he spoke, he remembered the words he'd heard a few years ago – or a few thousand years in the future, depending on your point of view. Lady Cassandra O'Brien, "the last human", had forced herself into his body after he had ordered her out of Rose Tyler's. Even though she had control, he could still hear her speak with his voice: "So many parts… and hardly used!" If there were a phrase to summarize his sex life, that one statement was it.

"Three people?" Grace questioned, clearly trying to grasp what he was telling her. "Twelve hundred years and you've only been with three people?"

"Yes." He looked at her pointedly. "Do you want to know why?" Seeing no reaction either way from Grace, other than her looking at him with amazement, he took her hands into his. "Because I have no other choice. If I have a sexual relationship with someone – anyone – she will own my hearts instantly." He took a deep breath, watching Grace waiting for an explanation. "It's a part of my biological make-up. Being intimate with someone… it breaks down all of my telepathic barriers and creates a telepathic link between my lover and myself. The link makes me one with her and only thing that can break that link is death."

Grace looked upon the face of the man she loved and saw it, plain as a white sheet of paper. Emotional pain etched his face, telling her that someone had hurt him. It also told her how humiliating it was for him to tell her about his unique biology. It obviously wasn't something that Time Lords discussed.

She touched his face gently before kissing his cheek. "I think a discussion over a cup of tea is called for," she told him. "Why don't you straighten yourself up and I'll go put a kettle on." Without further word, she started for the door, buttoning her blouse as she went.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The menu had change by the time the Doctor found his way into Grace's living room. Grace sat on the couch, two rock glasses and a bottle of scotch placed on the coffee table in front of her. Slowly, he went over to the couch and sat beside her, careful to keep a fair distance between them.

"Out of tea?" he half-asked, noticing Grace pouring the scotch into the rock glasses.

"I thought you might need something a little stronger," she replied, handing over one rock glass before picking up the other one for herself. She watched him for a long moment as he stared into the amber liquid, waiting for him to either drink the alcoholic beverage or to open up with his past relationships. When he didn't seem close to doing either, she took a breath and decided to start first.

"Who was she?" she asked gently. Gaining an odd look from the Doctor, she clarified. "The one who broke your hearts, which wife was she?"

The Doctor gave a sad smile. "Is it that obvious?" He exhaled slowly and then took a sip of the scotch before replying to the question. "My second. She was human but not from Earth. I met her a couple of months after I had to leave Sarah Jane behind. I wasn't looking for another companion but there she was. Smart, adventurous… and most important of all, she actually appreciated my rather Bohemian personality." He gave Grace another smile, this one more self-reproaching. "If you think I'm a bit eccentric in this life, you should have met me in my fourth." He paused, thinking about the events Grace had asked about. "I fell in love with Hana within a month of her traveling with me. She agreed to marry me even after I explained my… physiology." He sipped again on the scotch, seeming to focus on it more than what he was saying. "We were happy for a while. But apparently she became bored of me or something because one day when I left her in the TARDIS to get supplies… I was gone for several hours…" He sighed at the memory, finishing his drink with a large gulp that burned down his throat, burning the sadness away with it. "She left the TARDIS while I was away and found someone. Probably was a prostitute or…" He took a deep breath. "Point is thanks to the telepathic link, I learned a hell of a lot more about my second wife's sexuality than I had ever learned since the moment I met her." He huffed, the anger he'd felt all those centuries ago apparently still with him, though muted with time.

Grace looked at him with sympathy. She knew all too well what it was like to be in love with someone and for them to betray that love. But she knew that she couldn't possibly understand what it was like for her Doctor. She didn't know the Doctor's telepathic abilities well enough to even imagine what he had gone through. The only thing she could do was to try to understand and to give him support.

"I'm sorry," she told him genuinely. "What did you do?"

"I left her," he said bluntly, his eyes darkening at his own words. "Left her there and never returned for her. Not that it mattered. She knew we were telepathically linked and used it to her great advantage. It took me two whole years to find a way to block it out enough to get on with my life without her in my head constantly. It still didn't block her out completely, though." He rubbed a spot between his eyebrows, almost as if he were trying to rub out the memory from his mind. "Nine years. Nine years of her being in my head, knowing that she knew just how…" He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes before tightly swallowing his words. Opening his eyes again, he focused on the glass in his hand. "She died there. Some sort of venereal disease she caught from one of her lovers." He downed the drink quickly before putting the glass on the table, leaning forward to close his eyes and try to force the memories back into their deep dark cell.

The two were silent for a long time, just finishing the bottle before them, lost in their own thoughts. Both wondering what the other was thinking of them, of whether or not they frightened the other one away from them. Both scared to say a word lest they destroy their relationship before it could even start.

It was Grace who broke the silence.

"My first husband had an affair. That's why I divorced him. It was very cliché, really." She gave a sad chuckle. "He was sleeping with his secretary. I mean, how much more of a cliché can you get?" She breathed in and slowly exhaled. "My second husband… it just didn't work out. Married him for the wrong reasons. It was a very amicable divorce. No bitterness between us." She nodded mostly to herself. "We're still friends. Well, greeting card friends, anyway." She looked at the Doctor, wondering if he would follow her lead.

The Doctor listened quietly to Grace's description of her marriages. When the silence in the room indicated that he was his turn to share, he turned his head to see Grace patiently waiting. Slowly, he shook his head. She reached out and touched his arm.

"Your other two wives?" she requested gently.

The Doctor shook his head again. "My first wife was a scientist. Brilliant geneticist. She died far too young for a Time Lord. Huon particle contamination." He swallowed, finally putting his empty glass on the coffee table. "At least, she didn't suffer, unlike others. She didn't stop trying to find a cure either, even when she was bedridden." A gentle smile graced his face. "And she succeeded just a week before her own death. Saved a lot of lives. Couldn't save herself though. She just was too far along with the sickness. She really was a remarkable woman. The cure was lost in the Time War, however. So was my third wife." He took a deep breath pulling his long legs up so that his feet were perpendicular with the rest of his lean body. "The Time War took her," he answered quietly, "along with all the rest of my family and friends. All alone now."

Grace lowered her eyes, thinking about his words, about the pain that was in his voice as he spoke. If it weren't for some of the other stories that the Doctor had told her before, funny little stories about meeting so many famous people, she'd wonder if there was any joy in her friend's life.

She moved closer to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "You aren't alone. You may be the last of your kind, but you're not alone. You have me."

The Doctor raised his eyes to her, smiling softly at her words. His smile faded only slightly as he changed the subject.

"About what happened in that storage room…"

Grace shook her head. "I'm sorry," she started, pulling her arm away. "I shouldn't have come onto you like that. It won't ever…"

Her sentence was interrupted with a gentle kiss, the Doctor's hands cradling her chin and neck. Gingerly, the Doctor broke the kiss and then slowly stood from the couch. Looking on the woman who held his hearts, he smiled whimsically. "Don't be sorry for what happened," he said quietly. He hesitated a moment before tilting his head towards the guest cottage. "I have eleven or twelve rooms to clean tonight. I'll see you in the morning." He took a couple of steps before turning back to her. "Oh, and… thanks for the drinks and for… just being you."

Grace watched silently as the Doctor left the living room, her mind running madly with all that she had learned in just the past hour. Finally, her head still spinning, she gathered the empty bottle and the rock glasses and took them into the kitchen. Then, turning off the lights, she started up to her bedroom. She doubted very much that she would be able to sleep tonight, not with the Doctor's past on her mind. But she did know that if she wanted to be part of his future, she had better be damned sure that she was going to stay committed to him.

She couldn't bear being the cause of his hearts breaking again.


	9. Chapter 9: Finding the Doctor

_Author's Note: For the character of Veronica Ramses, I've envisioned Amanda Tapping playing the role._

_Sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter up and sorry that it's so short compared to the others. Life has suddenly become rather hectic thanks to Thanksgiving approaching (yes, I live in the US). Also, it looks like I'll be working six days a week for a while so that will slow down chapter production._

_Don't forget to review. As I say, reviews, like bananas, are good!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 9**

Humans.

Their lives were so short. Only a hundred years, or close to it if they were lucky, and then they were just gone, never to be seen in the universe again. And yet, with such extraordinarily short lives, humans were one of the most brilliant species in the universe.

At least, that was the Doctor's opinion of the human race. When he had first encountered the species so long ago during his first incarnation, the only human he could appreciate was his own mother. All other humans he found too simple minded, too primitive to even consider speaking more than a couple of words to, and that only because it was necessary. He hid his human side from the rest of the universe, burying it almost to the point of losing it all together. He'd hated hiding away on Earth with his granddaughter and even thought that her wanting to go to a human school was just too much. But then he met Ian Chesterton and Barbara Wright and his own lessons about humanity began. He'd learned that, despite what he had thought, his beloved mother hadn't been the exception to the rule: the human race had remarkable potential. Their capacity to learn and grow and love never seemed to be exhausted, regardless of the hardships that came their way, even when those hardships came from their own kind. They were courageous and clever, curious and compassionate. He came to finally understand why his father had fallen in love with the humans, just as he, the Doctor, had done the same. He marveled at the human race, a race he was now so proud to say he shared some biology with.

With a gentle smile, he folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe as he looked into the bedroom, watching the female human sleep. He'd had a lot to think about for the past week when it came to Grace Holloway. The encounter in the TARDIS and the heartfelt conversation over a bottle of scotch afterwards had caused the Doctor to seriously look at where he was in his life and how he felt about Grace. He couldn't deny that he loved her. The only question he had was what he was going to do about it. He'd loved so many before Grace and all but the three he'd married he'd kept at arms length. Some he'd loved intensely but was afraid to get too close to them lest his hearts be broken as they had been before. But his hearts had been broken in each case regardless of his actions to try to prevent it. Jo Grant had never shared his feelings for her and had married. He had left Sarah Jane Smith in order to protect her from the prejudices his world had against humans and never gone back to get her out of fear that she had already gone on with her life without him. Rose Tyler… well, he didn't want to think about Rose. That particular pain was still a little too fresh in his hearts.

The fear of loss was once again rearing its ugly head. He didn't want to lose Grace Holloway. The thought of her not being in his life hurt. Her smile, her stunned expressions when he did something completely… well… alien, even the peacefulness that adorned her face as she slept, they all made his current exile on Earth bearable. He could do domestic as long as she was there to brighten the monotony.

All of this thinking over the past week had led the Doctor to a single conclusion: he needed Grace just as much as he had needed Rose when she was in his life. But this time, he wasn't going to let his fear of loss get the best of him.

The radio alarm clock on the nightstand by Grace's bed turned on, blaring Eric Clapton's testimony that he didn't shoot the deputy. The Doctor watched with silent admiration as Grace rolled in her bed, groaning at the sound of the alarm. She slapped at the snooze button and dropped her head again on her pillow before she realized that there was someone standing in the doorway. Raising her head once more, she blinked slightly to clear her sleep-muddled eyes before frowning.

"Something wrong?" she asked the Doctor, not moving from her semi-relaxed position.

The Doctor shook his head slightly as he took a step into the bedroom. "No. I was just wondering if you wanted to take a trip with me after breakfast."

Grace groaned again. It seemed to the Doctor that she did a lot of that in the morning.

"I'm on staff today," she murmured to him. "Have to be at work in…" She looked at the clock as if she hadn't seen the time at all that day, though it was actually the second time since she barely opened her eyes. "Two and a half hours."

The Doctor shrugged. "Call in sick," he suggested.

Grace frowned at his words, rubbing her eyes slightly as she slowly sat up. "I'm off tomorrow and I'm not sick. It really wouldn't look good for me to just call in sick when I'm taking the next three days off." She looked at the lanky Time Lord with questioning. "Why are you so intent on me having today off? Where exactly were you thinking of us going?"

He scrunched his nose slightly as he thought of the best way to express his intentions. "Oh, I thought we'd just find a nice quiet little place where we could… oh, I don't know… get married?" He gave her a winning and genuine smile and then waited for her reaction.

She was staring. She was absolutely certain that she was staring. She was pretty sure that this was only the second time in her life where she had been stunned into silence. And she had a clear recollection that the Doctor had been the reason for the last time also. After all, how often do you see someone walk through a pane of glass without breaking it? The Doctor's ability to achieve the seemingly impossible had then been because of the Eye of Harmony being opened. But this time… this was… Did he really just propose?

"Isn't that a bit… domestic?" she finally said, though it wasn't the first thing that she would have chosen to say.

The Doctor tilted his head slightly as if to concede her point. "Well, domestic isn't so bad if you're sharing it with the right person, especially if you want to spend the next seventy or so years with that person." Going to the bed, he knelt beside it and looked up into her eyes, expressing all the feelings in his hearts. "I can guarantee that it won't be easy on either of us. You'll age but I hardly will. You'll die of old age before I even start to show a hint of gray in my hair. And no doubt people will talk eventually about the seeming age difference. But I'll be there for you. I will always be there when you need me. And I will love you with all my hearts." He gently took her hand, pressing it between both of his, cooling her warm hands with his lower body temperature. "Marry me, amazing Grace. Let's just go get married. Today."

Grace took a slowly breath, swallowed, and took a second breath, trying to find her voice again. "I… um…" She looked between the Doctor's eyes and his hands, a thousand thoughts running at the same time through her mind, now no longer addled with sleep. Marry him? Today? "This… This is a little… sudden," she finally told him.

The Doctor grinned at her choice of words. "This coming from a woman who quite clearly and bluntly expressed her feelings just last week." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it lingeringly. "You need a little time. I understand. If you want to wait… if you just don't want to marry at all, I understand." Slowly, he got to his feet and released her hand. "At least give me some kind of answer after you've showered and dressed, even if the answer is you aren't going to make a decision one way or the other." He tilted his head towards the door. "I'll be downstairs making breakfast."

As he left the room, he glanced briefly over his shoulder at the clearly bemused woman. Oh, how he wanted to go back to her, pull her into his arms, and kiss her. But he held the urge down, not wanting anything he did to influence her decision-making process. She had to make the decision on her own. He just hoped that he hadn't just made a completely and total fool of himself.

Going into the kitchen, he started a pot of coffee before pulling out the pancake mix to make waffles. He worked in complete silence, his mind occupied with all the possible answers Grace could give him. A part of him was wishing that he'd never proposed. After all, the only thing that would come to him, in the end, was heartache. He'd already seen enough loved ones grow old without him. He watched them age and die. And he was there to commemorate their passing with traditional funeral rites, whether it was a pyre or a burial. On the other hand, the years that he had spent with them before their deaths had been the best years he could ever remember. Surely those memories were worth the heartache.

He nearly burned a batch of waffles during his ponderings, barely saving them with a flick of his wrist. He had only just finished setting the table and placing the plateful of waffles on the table when Grace entered. Pouring a cup of coffee, he set it on the table along with half-and-half and sugar before gesturing Grace to sit and eat. He found the silence in the room a little unnerving, his mind again running at about a trillion calculations per minute as he wondered what was going through Grace's mind. Oh, he could find out for himself by just reading her thoughts but that would be considerably rude.

Finally, the silence had become unbearable as Grace picked at the breakfast before her. The Doctor opened his mouth to break the silence but Grace beat him. She put her fork down and looked at him plainly in the eyes.

"Why today?" she asked. Seeing the stunned look on the Doctor's face – he had obviously not expected the question - she pressed on. "Why not six months from now or even tomorrow? Why are you so insistent that it should be today?"

"You don't want to do it today?" the Doctor questioned. "If you want to do it six months from now, we can do that. But I'd rather not wait."

"Why not?" Grace leaned slightly forward, watching her dear friend closely. "What are you in such a hurry for?" Her voice was soft and melodic, telling that she wasn't demanding anything but better understanding of his motives.

The Doctor slid into the chair across from her, taking one of her hands in his. "I love you. Isn't that enough of a reason?" Feeling as if her eyes were trying to see into his thoughts, he took a deep breath and made an admission. "When I find something special, I don't ever want to let it go and yet I'm terrified of holding on to it because I know eventually I will _have_ to let it go. I've let too many things go in my life without actually holding onto them and I don't want to make the same mistake again." He looked deeply and purposefully into her eyes, the intensity of the look causing Grace to stiffen slightly. "I want to hold onto you for as long as I possibly can before I have to let you go. When you can live for millennia and the woman you love can only live a short one hundred years at most, every second with her is precious." He squeezed her hand gently to emphasize his words before releasing it. "The decision is yours. Marry, not marry, have me spend the rest of my time on Earth in the TARDIS and tell me you never want to see my face again… completely up to you."

Grace was quiet for a long moment, considering the Doctor's impassioned words. Then, finishing her coffee and waffles quickly, she turned to him with raised eyebrows.

"Yes," she said plainly, standing from the table.

For a moment, the Doctor tried to understand what was the meaning of the single word before a beaming smile occupied the whole of his face. "Yes? You'll marry me?" Seeing Grace's returned smile, he laughed with sheer joy, taking her in his arms before kissing her passionately. "Allons-y!" he exclaimed, starting for the garage door.

"Hold it right there, my darling," Grace told him, rushing to stop his actions. "I have four days now. Got Dr. Marlin to work in my place today. So, if we are going to do this, we're going to make it memorable, not just a quick signing of a document. We both need to pack."

The Doctor looked at her for a moment before grinning mischievously. "You called me my darling."

"From the smile on your face, I'm guessing you like it," she replied, putting her arms around him.

"Oh, I think it's brilliant!" he told her. He looked at her as if he suddenly remembered why they were being delayed. "Packing. Right. How long do you think? Fifteen minutes?"

"Absolutely perfect," she agreed. "Don't get yourself too distracted. I'll be down before you can realize it." With those words, she quickly left the kitchen and hurried up the stairs to her bedroom to pack.

The Doctor watched the woman he loved with admiration. For the first time in a long time, domesticity seemed absolutely fantastic.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Veronica Ramses pounded her fist onto her desk in frustration. Two months! It shouldn't take two months to hunt down an alien male hiding in the middle of 21st century Earth! And yet, that is how long she had been searching since she taunted Jack Harkness about her looking for the elusive Time Lord who called himself the Doctor. How all of her efforts could have gone so drastically wrong, she wasn't sure. However, she did have a feeling that Captain Jack was at least partly responsible for the growing problems that she faced.

The first thing to go terribly south was her timeship. One day she had returned to it to find that every highly advanced piece of technology that she could use in her hunt for the Doctor had been irreparably sabotaged. The next was that somehow, while she was sleeping, her fully functional vortex manipulator had been replaced with a dead one. How Jack had found her ship, she didn't know. But the sabotage and the switch had Captain Jack Harkness written all over it. But if he thought that her being limited to 21st century technology was going to stop her from finding the Doctor, he was so wrong.

Still… two months. Surely these primitive, pre-time travel humans had the ability to identify an alien in their presence. How could a manipulative, interfering extraterrestrial like the Doctor go completely unnoticed by this century's people? Surely someone had to have encountered him and made some kind of report, whether to UNIT or Torchwood or even the police.

But there was nothing. Not even working with Torchwood Two, the Glasgow division, against Jack's own Torchwood Three had given any results except a listing of all the UFO sightings in the world over the past two years, one of which Roni instantly dismissed as being her own timeship coming to Earth. Oh, what she wouldn't give for a break in the hunt.

And then it came. She didn't know why she didn't see it before. It was a weak trace but it was most definitely not human. In fact, there were very few civilizations who ever used the energy source, all of them now, for the most part, long deceased. And one of those nearly deceased civilizations was the Time Lords. Why Torchwood Two didn't see it or think anything of it, she had no idea. Sometimes early 21st century humans could be so very stupid, especially when something is staring them right in the face. Huon energy and Rift energy, both in an odd located. After all, the Rift was closed. There couldn't be such energy hiding away in the great State of New York. Not unless, of course, there was an alien spacecraft – or in this case, a TARDIS – sitting there, giving off the low levels of energy.

"I've got you now, Doctor," Roni Ramses murmured at the reading she gazed upon, smiling at the upcoming victory she could already taste. "Prepare to meet your destiny."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I found him."

Martha raised her head from medical journal – saving the world on a daily basis was fine but she still had to keep up to date on the latest in medical science – to see Jack standing right in front of her, a knowing grin on his face. She didn't have to ask who he had found.

"You did?" she exclaimed, standing up quickly, her magazine completely forgotten. "Where?"

"Would you believe East Hampton, New York?" Jack replied, placing his hands in his hips.

"You're kidding," Martha asked more than stated. "What's he doing in the Hamptons?"

"Apparently, he's living under the alias of John Smith – he really loves that name, doesn't he? – and is boarding in the home of Dr. Grace Holloway. He also taught at one of the local high schools for a year and a half before resigning just after the end of the school year three weeks ago." He gave her a smile.

"Well, let's go then!" Martha enthused. She reached to the back of the chair she had just been occupying and grabbed her jacket. "How'd you find him anyway? He still isn't answering the phone and I couldn't find any sign of odd activity anywhere."

Jack replied as the two of them made their way to the ground level of the Torchwood Hub. "Believe it or not, your phone calls actually helped me out. I did some research and discovered there have been fifty-three UFO sightings in the last two years. Most of them I've been able to discount as cases of mistaken identity – planes or satellites or such. One of those sightings was definitely Roni's ship and so I took full advantage of that information. Which left only about twelve or so that had no 'reasonable' explanation. Then I used your phone signals and matched them up with some very weak Huon radiation readings that we've been getting."

"Huon radiation?" Martha questioned, clearly unfamiliar with the term.

"You mean you never heard of Huon particles after all the time you traveled with the Doctor?" Jack asked, surprised by the revelation. They'd just exited the Hub and were walking across the plaza towards the local pizza parlor.

"We didn't exactly take the time to discuss alien technology," she countered, raising her eyebrows at him, knowing she knew what she meant all too well.

"Yeah, not exactly the Doctor's style. Sorry," he said before continuing. "Anyway, Huon particles are very rare. Right now, there are only two places in the whole universe where you can find it. There are extremely low doses under the Thames Flood Barrier in one of Torchwood One's now flooded labs. The lab is sealed off so no harm will come to the general population from it." He gave her a winning smile. "Now the other place where you can find Huon particles is…" He trailed off, letting Martha make her own conclusion.

"The TARDIS!" she concluded happily, following Jack into an alley.

"Bingo!" Jack agreed. "And with all the information we have, we can not only pinpoint exactly where the Doctor is but also the coordinates to get there." Raising his wrist, he started to put numbers into the vortex manipulator around his wrist.

"Wait a second," Martha put in, noticing his actions. "I thought that didn't work."

"The old one didn't. Switched it for Roni's when I took advantage of knowing the location of her ship," he replied, smiling to his friend. Taking her hand, he warned her, "Hang on," before activating the small device.

The world spun around and no sooner than they could even blink, they found themselves in a large house.

"Oh, my gawd!" Martha exclaimed as she looked into the living room, gaining Jack's attention.

The two of them stared with growing intrepidation at the sight of two bloodied bodies, male and female, quite dead on the living room floor.


	10. Chapter 10: The Language of Love

_Author's note: __**WARNING!**__ Graphic consensual sex in this chapter, thus the rating of "M" for this story. If you would rather not read such, you can skip through this chapter until you see two lines of DW 's._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 10**

The door shut on its own, completely ignored by the two newly arrived occupants of the hotel room. In fact, the moment the bellman had left the room with his tip, the female slammed her male counterpart against the nearest wall and began to practically rape him with her mouth, each hard kiss demanding an equal reaction to her ministrations. Hands ran through hair and pushed away sections of clothing so that teeth could nip at bare skin.

"Aggressive," the male commented with a growl as he stopped his groping to remove his jacket and tie, letting them drop unnoticed on the floor.

"I've been holding back for a week," she replied mischievously.

"Lucky me," the Doctor murmured against Grace's disheveled hair, his hands now focused on his new wife's blouse. He groaned slightly with delight as he felt Grace's hands working on his own shirt. "Have I told you today how much I love you?"

"Only about twenty or thirty times," she answered. "Now, shut up and kiss me."

He was more than willing to oblige as the blouse fell to their feet. Kicking off his trainers just as Grace did the same to her pumps, he bodily forced her towards the bed, working on removing the skirt that hugged her trim waist. He felt her warm hands on his belt and allowed her to undo his trousers, her right hand slipping into his briefs to cradle his manhood. He couldn't help the smile that graced his face.

"No pushing you away this time," he assured her, his voice muffled as his teeth found her neck and nipped at it with desire, causing her to gasp with appreciation.

"Gawd, I hope not," she sighed as she forced the remainder of his clothes from his body before helping him remove the rest of hers. She felt the back of her knees collide with the bed, causing her to fall onto her back halfway up. Her head encountered an obstruction and she reached up to feel a large rectangular shape covered with cloth and leather. It took a couple of seconds for her to realize what it was.

"Luggage," she told her husband. When he just hummed an inquiry to what she had said, she repeated the word and was rewarded with two very loud thuds as the Doctor pushed the suitcases forcefully from the bed, letting them fall to the floor unheeded, his lips barely moving from hers.

Slowly, the two lovers inched up the length of the bed until their heads met pillows. Somehow, the Doctor managed to pull the sheets back and kicked them so that they were out of the way but still accessible if they decided to actually use them. Then, driven with lust for the woman he loved, he pinned her to the bed with the weight of his own body, burying his head into her neck, nipping hungrily at her skin. Slowly, his bites and kisses trailed her collarbone and moved down between her breasts, his hands rubbing the length of her body with long gradual strokes.

Grace arched her back and gasped at the feel of her Doctor's cool hands and lips on her skin, shivering more from excitement than from the difference in their body temperatures. Her gasps turned into desperate whimpers when his tongue grazed her nipples.

"You're a tease!" she protested as the Doctor stopped his kisses. She changed her mind about her statement the moment she felt his lips on hers, feeling as if any minute he could draw all breath from her. "Gawd, take me," she murmured on his lips.

"Oh, I intend to," he emphasized, his hand sliding between her legs. "I will warn you, though. It can be intense." He slipped one finger, then two into her, gaining a moan of pleasure from her. "I'll try to make it as easy as possible for you."

Grace wasn't really listening to his words as much as she was to his tone. She couldn't recall ever hearing that tone in any man's voice before. At least, not in the voices of any of her previous lovers. Such devoted love filled her Doctor's voice that she didn't care what happened next as long as she was with him and he loved her.

"Take me," she repeated, her voice wispy, her eyes closed and her entire body more ready than she had ever been before.

The Doctor kissed her passionately as he gently pushed into her and let himself be with her heart and soul. Even as he started the rhythmic motions he knew would give them both such pleasure, he felt all the barriers he had in his mind drop in spite of his best efforts to ease what he knew he wouldn't have control over. Images flooded his mind – love, hate, pain, joy – all of them reflecting the life of the woman he married only a few short hours ago. He knew that Grace was seeing his own life in her mind. He prayed to whatever god was listening that his twelve hundred years of memories, some of them so painful he wished he could bury them forever, wouldn't drive her insane.

Opening his eyes, he looked into her eyes, grateful to see that she was still quite sane. However, he could also see the tears that trickled from her eyes and his hearts broke, certain that this marriage idea was a bad mistake and that Grace would run from him now that she knew who he really was. The tears, however, were instantly negated by the most amazingly joyous smile, a smile that the Doctor returned wholeheartedly before kissing his love again.

"I love you," he panted into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her body, hugging her to him, thrilled at the feel of her hands on his back in return. Every nerve in his body was alight as he really saw the woman he loved. She was so beautifully, marvelously _human_. She was noble, brave and compassionate in ways she would never truly realize and he loved her for it. He felt her memories and emotions seeping into the corners of his mind, helping him in ways he didn't think were possible anymore. For the first time since Gallifrey burned, he found that he could actually forgive himself for all he had done in his past lives.

She didn't reply verbally to his words of love, too engrossed in his memories to hear anything except the beatings of his hearts as she felt the many wondrous emotions that filled his soul and made him the man she loved. Each little movement of their bodies, each passionate kiss, each thrust of her beloved in her only intensified her experiencing everything that was the Doctor, making her want to stay exactly where she was for the rest of her life. The sensation flooded her, drowning her with ecstasy, causing an orgasm to rip through her. A half of a moment later, she heard her beloved growl as he shared in her ecstasy, gripping her frame tightly for several long seconds.

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

Completely spent, the Doctor relaxed his hold on his wife and turned so that they were both lying on the bed, facing each other. He felt Grace tuck her head between his chin and chest with a contented sigh. Pulling her a little closer to him, he caressed her hair and cheek, smiling softly. Neither said a word. What words could express what they had just shared? No one could ever understand it as they did. Thanks to his people's prejudice, so very few humans had ever mated with a Time Lord. With him being the last of his kind, Grace was now the only one who could honestly know exactly what it was that they had shared.

Opening his eyes, he smiled as he glanced at her, noticing the light sheen of perspiration that covered her while he, thanks to his unique biology, had hardly broke a sweat. His eyes followed his arm to his hand which held her so delicately. He ran his thumb over the gold band on her hand and his smile grew ever so slightly at the thought that flitted through his mind. _She's really mine. Rassilon, I don't deserve her but she's mine._ Kissing the top of her head, he tightened his hold on her ever so slightly, closing his eyes in contentment.

After a long moment of complete silence, the stillness was interrupted by Grace's soft voice as she shifted her position slightly to look at her Doctor's young and yet ancient face.

"You're amazing," she said gently. "I… I don't know what exactly just happened but… I feel as if I've known you my entire life. Is that what the telepathic link is really like?"

The Doctor brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "You already know the answer to that question, Grace," he murmured lovingly.

She nodded slightly at his words, knowing the truth in them. "It's just… it's a little overwhelming. Your warnings didn't give it justice." She moved a little closer to him, if that were even possible. "But I don't regret it for a moment. I don't think I've ever been this happy." She smiled up at him. "I love you, my Doctor." Seeing him return her smile, her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"What's wrong?" he asked with a hint of concern.

"Nothing," she assured him. "It's just...you still haven't told me your real name, even now that we're married. You keep it so well hidden, even from your own wife. How long have you been hiding it? Eight hundred years?" She gently brushed his cheek with her hand. "I really want to know." She paused, looking into his dark brown eyes. "Have you buried it for so long that you don't even know your own name any more?"

"I haven't forgotten my name," the Doctor told her with a whisper. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "It's for your own protection," he stated firmly.

"From what?" she asked with concern. "From what you told me, from what I could tell, the dangers you were so frightened of are gone. There's no reason to hide your name anymore."

"The dangers are always there. They're just different now," he stated plainly. Looking into her eyes, his own eyes softened at the love he saw there, the assurances that his name would remain her secret as well if he would just share it with her. "I can't," he whispered to her. "I just can't."

"Surely Morbius' followers are gone now." When the Doctor didn't answer her, she sighed. "You told me yourself that you were named after your maternal grandfather and that you're half-human on your mother's side. What is it? Richard? Peter?" She gave a half smile. "John?"

He returned the half smile at her last guess. "It's not John," he assured her. "That particular alias was Jamie's fault." Seeing the questioning in her eyes, he clarified. "James McCrimmon. He used to travel with me… oh… centuries ago. We had landed into some trouble and apparently, while I was unconscious, the security forces on the space station had demanded that Jamie tell them my name." His grin widened with amusement. "He told me later that he had gotten the name John Smith off of a piece of medical equipment. I wasn't very pleased at the time of his choice of inspiration. But it's a nice and inconspicuous name so I kept using it every once in a while." He paused, his face growing a little sad. "He didn't remember me after he was sent home. The Time Lords wiped his memory of all that we had done together. Both his and Zoë's." He paused, clearly pondering his own words. "I suppose going by John Smith helps me remember our time together for them. I have a lot of fond memories using that name."

Grace looked at him for a long moment before making a singular conclusion. "You're never going to tell anyone your name, are you? Not even me."

"I told you why," the Doctor emphasized, his concern dancing behind his eyes. "I won't risk you or anyone I care about. There's always someone out there who can use my name against you. I know you don't understand it completely. But hiding my name has already saved my life several times and, even more often, the lives of those I love." He shook his head slightly. "I can't lose you."

Grace watched him for a long moment, his words running through her mind. The concern on his face was most definitely genuine as was the fear behind that concern. Whatever dangers he feared, they were obviously still quite real.

"So, what do I call you when we're alone? What name do I cry out when I need you?" she murmured with a smile.

The Doctor looked at her for a moment, a wry smile on his face. "What do you want to call me?" He frowned slightly. "For that matter, what do we call _you_? Mrs. Doctor?" Hearing her giggle at his suggestion, he shook his head. "Nah. Too pretentious."

"I did sign the papers as Mrs. Grace Smith," she reminded him. "And you did sign them as Mr. John Smith… and then you drew something beside your signature. What was that?"

"That was my signature," he told her. Seeing the look in her eyes, he raised his eyebrows. "Seriously! That read 'The Doctor' in Gallifreyan Script!"

"You have a pictographic language?" she questioned. She chuckled slightly. "Even being telepathically linked to you, there's always something new to learn about you. "Looks complicated, though."

"It's very complicated," the Doctor agreed.

"Teach me," she ordered softly.

"It'll take years," he told her bluntly.

"I'm not going anywhere," she assured him. "I meant it when I said 'until death do us part'. So… teach me."

He blinked at her for a moment. "Now?" he queried, seeing the studious look on her face.

"Well, we have to start sometime, don't we?" she pointed out.

The Doctor took a deep breath and looked down the length of her body. "Teaching Gallifreyan is the last thing on my mind at this moment."

Grace grinned mischievously. "So I noticed," she commented. "Then just teach me a single phrase for the moment."

"_Sa ma kardaz_," he murmured, brushing her hair from her eyes with his fingertips, knowing immediately what phrase she wanted so desperately to learn. For once, he was thankful that the TARDIS wasn't well enough to translate the ancient language into Earth 21st century English.

"Say it again so I can repeat."

The Doctor smiled at her words. "_Sa ma kardaz._"

She thought about the phrases for a long moment before trying them herself. "Sa ma car-dazz," she tried.

"_Kardaz_," he corrected. "Roll your 'R' slightly."

"_Kardaz_," she repeated him with a smile. "_Sa ma kardaz_."

He beamed at her. "I love you too… my amazing Grace." Pulling her to him, he kissed her passionately before tucking her head under his chin once again.

Closing his eyes, he let himself enjoy each and every little moment with his wife in his arms, knowing full well that each and every little moment was more precious than any jewel in the universe. He opened his eyes briefly when the sound of Grace's rhythmic breathing filled his ears. With a gentle smile, he pulled her a little closer and allowed himself to fall asleep as well, knowing that they had the whole weekend to enjoy the bliss of being newlyweds.


	11. Chapter 11: Another Reunion

_Sorry for the long delay. Thanksgiving weekend came around as working a whole lot - now I just want time to do my Christmas shopping! ARGH! But here is the next part and I hope you really really like it._

_And as always, please review. Reviews really do motivate me to continue writing. And I am always receptive to constructive criticism. So, please tell me what you think._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 11**

It was a mix of instinct and medical training that caused Martha to move first while Jack looked on. She slowly walked up to the bodies and crouched down to take a better look. A moment later, she covered her mouth and quickly moved away, sickened by what she had seen, gaining a look of concern for her from Jack. He touched her shoulder reassuringly before finally going to the bodies to look for himself. If he hadn't already seen so much brutality in his one hundred seventy plus years of life, he too would have been hard pressed to remain at their sides. In fact, he admired Martha for her strength to even remain in the room.

The victims both were mutilated after being shot, the male in the chest and the woman in the back. The murderer had done a very good job in covering up the cause of death with the mutilation, though. A 21st century forensic pathologist wouldn't have been able to find the reason, other than mutilation. Jack, however, was from the 51st century. He knew a laser blast pattern when he saw it, even with the condition of the bodies. Not only were the chests of the victims practically obliterated but it also appeared that it had happened sometime the previous day.

"They've been here for about sixteen hours or so. Can't give an exact timeframe without Owen doing an autopsy," he told her, referring to Dr. Owen Harper, a member of his Torchwood team. "But rigor mortis has set in and the blood on the carpet is completely dry despite the loss of it from the body." He looked over at Martha, who still had her back to the bodies. "You okay?" he asked her with concern.

Martha nodded slightly, swallowing tightly. "Yeah. Just… for a minute, I thought…" She turned back towards Jack, showing the rest of her thoughts on her face. "I mean… he can regenerate but… if he was on his last regeneration…"

Jack gave her an understanding half-smile, his eyes still reflecting the seriousness of the situation. "Yeah, me too. But it's not him. It's not Dr. Holloway either. They're both human and I'd guess in their late sixties, early seventies. Dr. Holloway is in her late thirties."

Martha returned to the bodies to examine them with him, now that she was recovered from the shock of the brutality. She pointed out the victim's hands. "Matching wedding rings. Married?" she supposed.

She watched as Jack quickly, but respectfully, searched the pockets of the male. Finding a wallet, he opened it and looked at the driver's license.

"Erik Holloway. Well, based on the last name, I'm guessing that they were Dr. Holloway's parents," Jack told her before returning the wallet where he had found it. "Probably in the wrong place at the wrong time." As the two of them stood up, he shrugged his World War II era overcoat from his shoulders and covered the bodies with it. He looked upon them for a long moment, paying his respects in silence, before raising his head. "Take a look around here and see if you can find anything. I'm going to take a look at the rest of the house."

Martha frowned slightly at his words. "And what am I looking for?"

"Anything to indicate what Roni was looking for," he informed her. He briefly glanced at their surroundings, which showed obvious indications of being ransacked. "She made one hell of a mess in here so she was obviously looking for something and got pretty frustrated about not finding it, whatever it was."

"How do you know she didn't find whatever it was that she was looking for?" Martha questioned, clearly confused as to Jack's train of thought.

"She hasn't gloated yet," Jack replied. Seeing the raised eyebrow on Martha's face, he shook his head. "Trust me. Whatever it is, she hasn't found it. Besides, I have a feeling I know what she was looking for."

"And that is?"

Jack didn't answer the question, starting for the back of the house. "Take a look around. See what you can find," he called back to her.

Martha rolled her eyes slightly. "You're worse than the Doctor," she muttered under her breath as she started to do as she was instructed. But even as she looked around, she couldn't see anything of any kind of relevance. What she did learn was that Dr. Grace Holloway had very distinctive tastes. What few possessions she had which Veronica Ramses hadn't broken were of fine quality and showed Grace preferred simplicity in designs. What was more, Martha got the impression that, although she enjoyed the finer things in life, Dr. Holloway wasn't in the least bit snobbish. Martha found herself looking out the window, thinking about what kind of woman Grace Holloway was. She had a feeling that she would like her a lot.

While in her search, she spotted a purse sitting on the coffee table. Taking a look in it, she discovered a small wallet and opened it, saddened by what she'd found. "Janet Holloway," she read off of the driver's license present. Glancing towards the dead woman laying several feet away, she couldn't help the deep sadness that filled her. "I'm sorry, Janet," she whispered to the woman before replacing the wallet and continuing with her task. A moment later, she noted Jack's return to the living room.

"Wife's name was Janet Holloway," she told him softly. "Just to let you know."

Jack nodded at her words but didn't reply, immediately telling her what he had discovered. "I was right. Found the TARDIS sitting in the guesthouse out back, locked up nice and tight. Roni was obviously trying to find a key to get in. She probably thought the Doctor was hiding out in it."

"Well, he isn't," Martha announced, her eyes returning to the window. "Take a look outside."

Jack walked to the window and followed Martha's gaze to see the Doctor stepping out of a red convertible sports car, laughing at something his driver, a woman who appeared to be in her early forties, had said. The two went to the trunk of the car and the woman opened it up, allowing the Doctor to reach in and pull out a couple of suitcases.

"We'd better intercept them before they come in," Jack told Martha as he walked towards the door. "I'd rather we told Dr. Holloway about her parents before she sees them for herself."

Martha didn't say anything to Jack's words, instead following him out of the house.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dr. Grace Smith drove down the street, a smile on her face as she listened to her husband rattle on about something she didn't really understand. She didn't mind though. The Doctor was clearly having a good time in his one-way conversation and she wasn't going to spoil his happiness by telling him that she was completely in the dark as to what he was saying. When she saw the car parked in her driveway, however, she interrupted him with a slight frown.

"That's Dad's car," she told him. "What's he doing here?"

"You didn't call him to tell him about our elopement," the Doctor stated with a bit of questioning in his voice. Gaining a shake of the head from his wife, he gave a wry grin. "I wonder how he's going to react to the news."

"He'll probably ground me for a month," she commented jokingly, gaining a laugh from him as she parked and the two of them stepped out of the car. The two went to the trunk and, after Grace opened it, proceeded to take their two pieces of luggage from its small but functional space.

Turning her head to say something to the Doctor, Grace noticed how he seemed concerned, his face somber as he stared straight ahead.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"We have a visitor," the Doctor told her quietly. "Someone I haven't seen in a long while." Seeing the raised eyebrows Grace gave him, he clarified, "He's not your father either." He paused, thinking about the implications of what he felt. "I have a bad feeling, Grace."

A shiver ran down Grace's spine at the Doctor's words. If he had a bad feeling then there definitely was trouble brewing and she was sure that she wouldn't like it in the least. "The Master?" she whispered, fearful that the answer to her question just might be 'yes'. Seeing the Doctor shake his head, she questioned, "Who?"

Before the Doctor could answer, the door to the house opened and two people very familiar to the Doctor but completely unfamiliar to Grace stepped out and headed towards them.

"Felt you from out here, Harkness," the Doctor told his immortal friend, shaking his hand.

"Doctor," Jack greeted. Before he could say more, the Doctor turned his attention to the black woman.

"Martha," he greeted with a smile, opening his arms for a hug.

Martha instantly moved into the hug, squeezing the Doctor tightly before stepping back and slapping him hard on his left cheek.

"Ow!" he exclaimed in shock, rubbing his face. "What was that for?"

"We've been trying to find you for the past two months!" Martha yelled at him, quite clearly more relieved than upset. "I gave you that phone for a reason, mister!"

"Phone?" he questioned. Getting a hard glare from her, he realized what she was referring to. "Oh. That phone. I guess I just haven't had it on me lately." Even as he spoke, he heard Jack speaking a familiar sentence.

While Martha confronted the Doctor, Jack walked up to Grace and extended his hand.

"Captain Jack Harkness, ma'am."

"She's taken!" the Doctor growled as he stepped towards Jack, obviously protective of Grace.

Jack frowned at the Doctor's reaction. "I wouldn't even _dream_ of flirting with your wife, Doctor."

"Wife?!" Martha exclaimed in shock, her gaze going from the Doctor to Grace to Jack and back to the Doctor. "You're married?"

The Doctor ignored Martha's incredulous question, focusing his attention on Jack. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Jack replied bluntly. "But we found something else first." He turned his head slightly, indicating the house.

"What?" Grace questioned, finally speaking up. "What did you find? For that matter, who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?!"

Jack took a breath. He hated being the bearer of bad news. Gwen Cooper was always so much better at letting others know about tragedy striking. That was one of the things that made her such an invaluable member of his Torchwood team. He swallowed tightly to prepare himself.

"Dr. Holloway," he started. Glancing at the Doctor momentarily, he could see the Doctor's eyes grow dark, as if the Time Lord already knew what Jack was about to say. "Are your parents Erik and Janet Holloway?" He noted the way she stiffened at his question and mentally cursed Fate for giving him this task again.

Grace swallowed tightly, swaying slightly. It was enough, though, for the Doctor to quickly come behind her to hold her, steadying her. "Oh, my gawd," she whispered. Looking between Jack and Martha, she knew the truth without them having said any more. "They're… they're not…" she started. Seeing the look of sympathy on both Jack and Martha's faces, she ran for the front door.

"Grace!" the Doctor called out to her, quickly following her as she ran.

"Mom! Dad!" she cried out as she rushed into the house, looking around. The Doctor was on her heels, looking at her with growing concern as they both noticed the covered bodies just inside the living room.

The Doctor moved up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He knew what was running through her mind, even though he wasn't reading it. The telepathic link between them allowed him to feel everything she was feeling. "You don't have to," he told her quietly, already knowing how she was going to reply to that statement.

"Yes, I do," she whispered, pulling away from the Doctor's hold and going to the bodies. Slowly uncovering them, she let out a pain-filled sob as her worst fears were confirmed. Turning quickly, she rushed into her husband's arms, sobbing into his shoulder as he held her tightly to him.

Jack and Martha entered the house, the Doctor's and Grace's luggage in their hands. Leaving the luggage by the door, they slowly approached the couple, Martha staying a short distance further away as Jack observed the look in the Doctor's eyes. He knew that look all too well. Someone was going to pay for the deaths before him. Jack was just glad that he wasn't on the Doctor's hit list.

Several minutes passed as Grace poured her anguish to the Doctor. When she finally slowly pulled away, he looked into her eyes with shared heartbreak. "I'm sorry, Grace. I'm so sorry," he told her compassionately, pulling her to him again in a hug before kissing her forehead. He turned to Martha, noticing her watching silently. "Martha, take Grace to the TARDIS and make her a cup of tea, please," he requested of his dear friend. He returned his focus to his wife. "Go with her," he instructed quietly. "I'll join you shortly."

Grace hesitated for a moment, clearly not wanting to leave the Doctor's side. However, seeing the concerned look in his eyes for her, she nodded slightly and obeyed, letting the woman the Doctor called Martha escort her through her own house and to the guesthouse. At the very least, she knew that she could trust Martha, just based on the fact that the Doctor trusted her.

The Doctor waited until he heard the door to the yard close. Then, with dark eyes, he looked at Jack, fury brewing behind his brown eyes.

"Who did this, Jack?" he demanded. "And don't tell me that you don't know. I recognize a blast from a 51st century laser blaster, no matter how well it's covered up. As I recall, Time Agents carry laser blasters. And you used to be a Time Agent. So I want to know who did this and why."

"You're right. It was a Time Agent," Jack confirmed as he again covered the deceased couple. "Her name is Veronica Ramses. She used to be my partner when I was still with the Time Agency. She claims that you are a wanted criminal and that she was sent to bring you to justice. But I think it's more likely she wants revenge. For what, I don't know." Seeing the unwavering gaze the Doctor gave him, Jack knew that the Time Lord wanted all the little details concerning this woman he had just introduced. "She came to me two months ago and demanded that I tell her where you were. I told her the truth, which was that I didn't know. But she was just baiting me to look for you myself. She just wanted me to find you for her."

"Did you?" the Doctor asked quietly.

Jack frowned at the accusation. "No," he replied briskly, blatantly offended by the possible accusation. "I put her on a wild goose chase which she obviously didn't take to for long. I don't know how she found this house but she obviously found you before we could warn you about her." He watched the Doctor for a long moment, waiting for a reaction – any reaction – to tell him what was running through his friend's mind.

The Doctor took a deep breath as he thought on what Jack had told him. He was certain that he'd never met or had even heard of anyone by the name of Veronica Ramses. He had no clue what Ramses had against him. Whatever wrong she thought he had done to her, it had to be a grievous one for her to kill two innocent people. But then again, perhaps she was the kind to harm the innocent to punish the guilty.

"Why them?" he asked Jack quietly.

Jack shook his head. "The only thing I can think is that they interrupted her while she was looking for the TARDIS key. Other than that… I don't know." He easily noticed how the Doctor's eyes never moved from his in-law's bodies. Going to him, he put his hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "I have to cover this, Doctor," Jack told him. Seeing the slight glare from his friend, he assured him, "I won't send them to Cardiff. They'll have a decent and proper burial here in the States."

The Doctor nodded slightly at his words. He knew the general rule Jack followed when it came to such circumstances, where the cause of death didn't fit with the current timeline - like being killed with a laser blaster from the 51st century, was to take the bodies and store them below the Torchwood Three Hub and then cover up their sudden disappearance. He also understood the reasoning around the rule. However, the Doctor always felt it was a cold and callous way to treat the dead and cringed against the idea every time it was brought up. He was silently grateful for Jack's compromise on the issue when it came to Grace's parents.

"She has a brother," the Doctor told him. "Andrew. He needs to be informed of their deaths."

"I'll take care of it," Jack assured him. "In the meantime, Roni's still out there and I wouldn't put it passed her to be having this house watched. You need to get you and your wife away from here as quickly as possible. Get off Earth. Go on a second honeymoon or something."

The Doctor glanced at Jack for a moment before turning and starting for the back of the house. "Easier said than done at the moment," he commented as he left the house, Jack on his heels.

"And why is that?"

"The TARDIS isn't exactly in the best condition," the Doctor told him, guiding him to the guesthouse. Pulling out the TARDIS key, he unlocked the timeship's door and entered, allowing Jack to follow him in.

Jack stopped the moment he entered, looking at the damage around him. While it was obvious that there had been repairs done, it was also clear that there still were many more repairs to do.

"What happened?" Jack exclaimed, going to the console to peer under it. "What did you do to her?"

"As if I did this on purpose!" the Doctor protested. Seeing the look that Jack threw his way, he explained, "Two years ago, I was just on my way to Constantinople 1626… or was it 1623? 1625?" Again, he noticed the annoyance on Jack's face and got himself back on track. "Anyway, for some as yet unknown reason, she just dropped out of the vortex in the middle of the SATT system."

"Wait a minute," Jack piped in. "Sigma Alpha Theta Twelve?" he asked for clarification. "Isn't that an asteroid belt now?"

The Doctor gave him a brief nod. "Well, somehow the shields weren't working and the TARDIS isn't designed to withstand a lot of damage with the shields down, as you know. I had to make an emergency dematerialization, which would have worked just fine if an asteroid hadn't damaged the beacon and the Directional Locator."

"So you crashed on Earth," Jack concluded.

"Materialized in the ionosphere and was unable to slow my descent. Not to mention the massive electrical interference just materializing there caused the TARDIS. We crashed right in the middle of Grace's driveway. Nearly destroyed The TARDIS completely," the Doctor verified what he knew Jack was realizing. "And since she was grown rather than built, and there isn't exactly anywhere I can go to get replacement parts, everything needs to be regrown or grafted."

"And so you've been stuck on Earth for the past two years affecting repairs," Jack surmised. "You could have gotten hold of me. I could've helped you out."

The Doctor shook his head slightly. "You were busy with your responsibilities to Torchwood. Besides, I estimated that it will take at least ten years to effectively repair the TARDIS for safe travel and I didn't think that Grace could handle two unexpected guests much less one for that long."

Jack smiled slightly at his words. "Oh, there's a story behind that." Seeing the Doctor's raised eyebrow, he clarified. "You and Grace. But…" he stated firmly, "it's a story you're going to have to tell me later. I have work to do." He gestured his head towards the inside door. "Go take care of your wife."

The Doctor nodded his head slightly as he turned towards the door, not envying Jack's work but nonetheless grateful for his friend's actions. He stopped for a moment with thought and turned back to the ex-Time Agent. "How did you know Grace and I are married?"

"Matching wedding rings," Jack told him over his shoulder.

The Doctor noted Jack's leaving the TARDIS as he himself made his way to the kitchen, which he found unsurprisingly silent. It had been only a few short days since he had been in the room but he was suddenly struck with how much still had to be fixed even here. The ceiling was still exposed, revealing wiring that still needed repairing. He was just grateful that, since he had started repairs, he at least was able to make the kitchen functional…barely. There still was much to do in repairing the ancient timeship. Unfortunately, it was looking as if they weren't going to be giving the time necessary.

Looking in from the doorway, he saw Martha and Grace sitting at the table, with Grace on one end and Martha perpendicular to her. Both had cups in front of them but the Doctor had a feeling neither of them had been doing much drinking. The scent of the room indicated that the tea had at one time been quite hot but it was now rapidly cooling.

As the Doctor quietly went to the table, Martha stood and silently excused herself from the room, knowing that the two needed some time alone. The Doctor sat in the chair Martha had vacated, scooting the chair as close to Grace as possible. He placed his hand over hers, which rested limply on the table. Taking the hand, he raised it to his lips and gently kissed it before pressing it between his.

The coolness of her husband's skin against her caused her to raise her eyes to meet his. She swallowed tightly, biting on her lip to keep from sobbing again. She didn't want to cry anymore, not after the living room in the Doctor's arms and then again in the kitchen with Martha holding her. But with the man she loved so close again, it was proving difficult to maintain her composure, something she had been able to do on a daily basis every time she walked into an operating room.

"You just think violence like that happens to other people," she murmured without preamble. "Not to your own family." She bit her lip again, seeing the look of empathy from the Doctor. Of course, she knew he understood what she meant. He'd lost his mother due to a violent, nonsensical act. She let out a shaky breath. "I have to tell Andrew. Don't know what I'm going to say…"

"Jack will take care of that," the Doctor assured her. "He'll take care of it all."

"You trust him?" Grace asked quietly, unsure about letting a stranger – at least a stranger in her eyes – with tasks of such personal importance.

"With my lives," he stated emphatically, squeezing her hand gently. "They will have a proper funeral in a few days time. But afterwards, we may have to run."

"Run?" she questioned quietly. "Why?" She hesitated as she gazed upon her beloved's face, seeing the truth there. "The person who murdered Mom and Dad… they're after you, aren't they? Why?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't know. But she's extremely dangerous and I have a feeling she will do anything to get to me, even if it's through you." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "We need to start planning an escape because we may have to leave at any moment."

"But you said it would be years before the TARDIS could travel anywhere," she pointed out to him.

The Doctor winced slightly at her words. "Yes, and that is where the problem lies. Even if we completely ignored getting the time regulator and all that working, it's still going to take another three years just making her a transmat. We may have to abandon her until she can fully heal. There just aren't enough biowires to fix everything that we need right at this moment. You saw how long it took just to make her safe enough to walk through and to get electricity flowing." He took a deep breath. "In the meantime, I want you to move into the TARDIS. It's the safest place for us right now, despite her not exactly being the most attractive place to live."

Grace was disturbingly quiet at his words, her eyes focused on his hands as they held her single hand.

"I know it's a lot to take in right now," he started. He stiffened slightly as she looked up at him. She looked so utterly and completely lost, not at all like the strong woman he had married only three days before. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked with growing concern.

Grace didn't say a word in response, plainly stunned by all that had happened in just a short amount of time. In less than an hour, she had gone from basking in the joys of marital bliss to coping with not only the loss of both of her parents but also with the possibility of being on the run for who knew how long. She didn't know how to answer her husband's question, at least not yet. She couldn't remember ever being as terrified as she was right at that moment.

Sensing the torment that ran through her, the Doctor pulled her gently into his arms and held her for a long moment before encouraging her to stand and walk with him. He guided her through the damaged corridors, his arm around her shoulders protectively. Reaching their destination only a minute later, he opened the door and slowly helped her through the doorway.

Two years before, when he had discovered just how much damage had been done to the TARDIS because of the crash, the Doctor had determined which rooms absolutely had to be repaired immediately and had put them at top priority. The first and foremost was, of course, the console room, without which there would be no chance of the TARDIS ever traveling again. There were several engineering related rooms, including the power auxiliary room, and the medical bay. And while it wasn't necessary as such with him living in Grace's guesthouse, he felt compelled to fix up the main kitchen, the main bathroom, and his own bedroom. Of course, that included all the corridors that led to each of the rooms.

Now, he was grateful for his impulsive decisions concerning his bedroom as he brought Grace over to the bed and encouraged her to sit. Assuring her that he would return, he left the bedroom and went to the medical bay to retrieve a bottle and stopped by the kitchen before returning to the bedroom.

Kneeling in front of Grace, he opened the bottle and shook out a single pill before setting the bottle on the nightstand. Taking her hand, he placed the pill in her palm and put a glass of water in her other hand. She looked at the pill blankly for a moment before shaking her head.

"No," she mouthed slightly, trying to give the pill and water back to the Doctor. "I don't want to rely on drugs."

But the Doctor was insistent. He gently wrapped his hand around the hand holding the sedative. "Grace, you're exhausted but you're not going to get any sleep because of the stress you are feeling, no matter what your intentions may be. And right now, sleep is the one thing you need the most." Raising his free hand, he cupped her cheek gently. "Please, amazing Grace. Just this once. For me."

Grace looked into his eyes for a long moment before nodding slowly. Putting the pill in her mouth, she washed it down with water.

Smiling slightly at her cooperation, the Doctor retrieved the now empty glass from her and placed it next to the bottle of sedatives. Then, after helping her out of her clothes and into a pair of pajamas, he gently laid her down, covered her with thick blankets, and kissed her forehead lovingly. Holding her hand, he waited until he was certain that she was asleep before he left for the console room.


	12. Chapter 12: Trappings

_Sorry that this is so long in coming to you. It's been a very busy holiday season for me, not allowing me time to relax with a good word processor. :D Again, please let me know what you think about this chapter. I haven't been getting a lot of reviews lately and, as I said before, reviews help me write. Criticism is always allowed but make sure it's constructive._

_Merry Christmas! Happy New Year!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 12**

_Cardiff, Wales_

_United Kingdom, 2008_

The brown-haired wig and the colored contact lenses did nothing to reassure the widow that no one recognized her, although she didn't let her discomfort show on her face. Ever since she had escaped capture for the murder of her husband, she wondered if any of _them_ were looking for her. She was constantly keeping an eye out for any familiar face, hoping that she wouldn't run across any of _them_. As such, she also kept her head down, kept herself unnoticed. The last thing she needed was to be noticed by _them_.

She could still hear her beloved's voice in her head, telling her what she needed to do. The problem, though, was that she had no idea how to do what she had to do. First and foremost, she didn't know the location of the place where they were destined to reunite. Second, she didn't have the necessary means of transportation to get there. And third, she didn't know how to find the Doctor to ensure the revenge that was due to him.

The only advantage she had was the precious gift of time sense. Before she met her beloved, she was just ordinary. But he had given her the extraordinary, telling her that she always had the ability, that she just needed the right person to open her up to what she was truly capable of. Once he had taught her how to use that gift, she could see more clearly than she could ever before. She could see a person's life by just looking at them. She could see into a person's soul. And because of her new abilities, she had changed from a demure shy girl to a strong, dangerously confident woman who would do anything for her beloved. That was why she feared and loved him; she knew him better than anyone could ever know him and, through knowing him, she knew herself.

Thus it was that when the short blond-haired woman dressed in black leather walked into the same coffee shop where she was, the widow gasped at the brilliance around her, the aura that screamed time traveler to her. She could see the woman wasn't from the 21st century, probably wasn't even from Earth, though she was obviously human. The woman ordered a coffee and found a seat two tables away, apparently focused on the paper in front of her.

The widow watched her for a long moment before standing from her seat, walking to the woman's table, and sitting without any announcement. The woman didn't seem to pay attention to the widow for a long moment before she spoke.

"You know, in 21st century Cardiff, it's typically considered rude to sit at an already occupied table without asking for permission first." She paused, raising her eyes to meet the widow's. "And I didn't give you permission to sit at my table."

"We need each other, Veronica Ramses," the widow told her bluntly. Seeing the astonished expression on the woman's face, she smiled slightly. "Yes, Roni, I know who you are and I know what you want. You want your ex-partner's head on a platter. After all, he ruined your life, didn't he? He was the one that got you kicked out of the Time Agency."

Roni stared at the widow for a long moment before finding a voice. "Who are you? How the hell did you…"

"Who am I doesn't matter. What does is what we can do for each other," the widow interrupted. "As for how I knew, let's just say that I have a gift for seeing into a person's soul."

The ex-Time Agent looked upon this strange woman with growing suspicion. "And what is it, exactly, that you think we can do for each other?"

The widow smiled slightly at her question. "I can give you your ex-partner and insure that he is punished for what he has done to you. All I ask in return is transportation and the Doctor."

Roni raised an eyebrow. "I'd say you need a doctor, alright," she commented derogatorily.

The widow ignored the insult, speaking over Roni's last word. "He's a Time Lord. A very powerful being. Your dear friend and ex-partner knows him. They're very close friends."

"Hate to tell you this, but you're delusional," Roni told her, leaning forward over the table. "Okay, so you know some things. But the Time Lords are extinct. And even if they weren't, how do you expect me to catch one? They were masters of time and space. Your 'Doctor' could be anywhere, anytime. As for my ex-partner, I don't need your help getting to him. I know he's here on Earth and can't leave. I can find him and exact my revenge on my own."

"How?" the widow asked. "Shooting him? Knifing him? Drowning him? He'll only come back to life." Seeing the disbelief on Roni's face, she continued. "He's immortal now. Don't believe me? He's going by the name Captain Jack Harkness and he lives here in Cardiff. Go ahead and try. I'll even escort you to him. But I guarantee you'll be back looking for me to help you."

"If he is immortal now, as you say, how are _you_ going to insure his punishment?" Roni pointed out with wariness.

The widow gave a wicked little grin. "There are fates far worse than death, dear Veronica. Trust me." She leaned forward to match Roni's gaze. "We'd make an excellent team, Veronica. We'd both get what we want and then we'd never have to see each other afterwards. In fact, since I'm asking for far more than I'm offering, let me raise the offer. You give me transportation and the Doctor and not only will I give you Captain Jack Harkness and insure he's punished, you'll also never have to worry about money for the rest of your life."

There was silence between them as they watched each other, trying to determine what the other was thinking. Finally, Roni leaned back in her chair, giving the widow a slight smile. "All right," she agreed. "We'll work together on this. But I need a down payment. Five hundred thousand pounds, if what you say about… Jack… is correct. Meet me here tomorrow at the same time and bring the money."

"Of course," the widow replied, watching Roni stand. "Until tomorrow, Veronica Ramses."

Roni stopped as she turned to walk away, looking at the woman with growing curiosity. She was such an odd woman, as if she really didn't belong of this world, even though she plainly was born into it. "Since we appear to be partners now and you know my name, what do I call you?"

The widow seemed to consider her words for a moment before smiling slightly. "Harriet. Harriet Mayhill."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_East Hampton, New York_

_United States, 2010_

The Doctor, dressed completely in Earth traditional black for mourning, escorted Grace from the gravesites, his arm wrapped around her shoulder protectively. Ever since they had found Erik and Janet dead in Grace's living room, the Doctor's wife just hadn't been the same as normal. While he himself had once sized her up as being tired of life but scared of death when they first met in 1999, he knew that their first adventure had brought out the true Grace Smith, nee Holloway, the one who embraced life with fervor and with the knowledge that even if she couldn't hold back death forever at least she could fight it. Her parents' deaths, however, wounded that adventurous spirit. The Doctor knew she would recover with time – that was one of Grace's greatest strengths – and that with recovery would come determination. It was that determination that the Doctor looked forward to seeing again on his beloved's face. But until then, he needed to be her support.

They were approaching the waiting black limousine they had arrived in when he noticed a blonde woman standing a short distance from the funeral party, watching with what the Doctor could only call immense intensity. He turned his head slightly to see if Jack or Martha had seen the odd woman but wasn't able to see them. When the Doctor returned his eyes to where she had been, however, the woman was gone. Immediately concerned, he motioned for Andrew Holloway to come take his sister's arm and gave Grace a reassuring kiss before leaving her side to investigate.

Arriving at the spot, he looked around quickly but thoroughly, trying to locate the woman he had seen before. He frowned slightly when he noticed no sign of her, something that shouldn't be possible in a graveyard such as the one they were in. He was about to move a little further away from the funeral party when he felt Jack's presence beside him.

"What is it?" Jack asked somberly, following the Doctor's actions of sweeping the area with his eyes.

"A blond-haired woman was watching the funeral from around here. She didn't seem as interested in the funeral itself as she was in who was attending," the Doctor explained. "She appeared to match your description of Ramses."

Jack's eyes narrowed slightly. "And you just had to walk into a potentially dangerous situation. Typical." He put his hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "You let me do the worrying about Roni. You have your own responsibilities right now and one of them is avoiding getting yourself killed. I've just gotten used to this face; I don't want you changing it on me anytime soon and I seriously doubt that Grace feels any different about the issue."

"Don't exaggerate," the Doctor protested, allowing Jack to return him to the limousine. "You've known this face for three years whereas you only knew the other for a few short months." He gave Jack a half of a smile at his own words, letting him know that he appreciated his worrying about him. "Thank you," he said quietly to his friend and then, without a word, returned to Grace's side just as she slowly slipped into the back seat of the limousine.

Jack searched the area warily as Grace, the Doctor, and Andrew got into the limousine. Seeing no sign of Ramses, though he had no doubt that the Time Agent was somewhere nearby, he waited until the limousine had pulled from the curb before joining Martha to follow the grieving family in the rental car Martha had procured.

The trip to the reception was fairly silent, only broken with an occasional word here and there as the Doctor held Grace close to him, her sadness breaking his own hearts. Every once in a while he proclaimed his love for her, kissing her temple gently and brushing her hair. Grace, for her part, remained silent, the only indication that she was even aware of her surroundings being sad smiles to her husband and her brother.

The reception was in an elegant ballroom large enough to hold the dozens of people who came to support the family in their hour of grief. The room itself had two large entrances manned by intricately adorned double doors. Every wall had ornate patterns covering every inch. Given that there were no windows, all lighting came from crystal chandeliers that hung from evenly spaced positions on the ceiling. To the Doctor, the room seemed out of place for 21st century New York City. It very much reminded him of Versaille, France.

Once in the heart of the reception, Grace grew more talkative amongst the guests who came to give their condolences and to share stories with her. She wasn't up to being her usual self but seeing her starting to enjoy the company around her helped to alleviate the Doctor's concerns for her. What really eased his mind, though, was when after they had been there for a about an hour, the Doctor noticed her laughing gently as one of her friends relayed an amusing story which the Doctor himself didn't bother to eavesdrop on, though with his excellent hearing he could have quite easily done so. He smiled slightly, leaning against a wall as he surveyed the scene, grateful for the outpouring of support for his new wife.

"Good to see her with a smile on her face," Jack commented as he approached the Time Lord, a glass of wine in each of his hands. He handed one glass to his friend as he gestured towards Grace with his head. "The only time I ever saw her smile before was just as you two were pulling into the driveway that day." When the Doctor didn't reply verbally, just nodding in agreement, Jack tilted his head slightly. "So, what about you? How are you?"

The Doctor gave a weak smile. "Well, I suppose," he replied honestly. "I think that I'm thinking too much."

"About?" Jack encouraged.

"About the last week," the Doctor replied softly. "About whether or not I've made the right decisions concerning… us."

Jack exhaled slowly, nodding his head slightly. "You're still blaming yourself for their deaths." Seeing the look in the Doctor's eyes only confirmed his supposition. "Doctor, it wasn't your fault. Veronica Ramses killed the Holloways, not you."

"They wouldn't have been killed if I hadn't taken up residence in Grace's house," the Doctor countered with a murmur.

Jack sighed slightly. "Like you had a choice in where you were going to crash land." He gave him a pointed look. "Listen. I don't know how many times I can tell you before you actually start believing me, but not everything in the universe happens because of something you did. And if you keep up with the kind of logic you're on, you're going to find yourself in a courtroom getting a divorce because I seriously doubt that even a woman like Grace is going to put up with that attitude for long."

The Doctor gave him a wry grin. "Time Lords mate for life, Jack."

"In that case," Jack corrected himself, patting his shoulder, "good luck with the rest of your life." That brought the genuine smile he was waiting for.

Again, for a long moment, silence ruled between the two men, both watching their surroundings. Finally, the Doctor broke in, a slight frown on his face. "Do you smell that?" he questioned, sniffing at the air slightly.

Jack smiled slightly at his words. "Yeah. It's called food, something you haven't eaten in the last few days," he teased mercilessly. His face dropped slightly when he saw that the Doctor was quite serious in his query. "What is it?"

The Doctor shook his head slightly, handing his near empty glass to Jack. "Don't know. Slightly metallic," the Doctor commented as he followed the scent around the room. "Can't you smell it?" he questioned, noting Jack's following him. He stopped just under an air vent, sniffing the air again. "It's coming from the ventilation," he surmised, raising an eyebrow towards his friend.

Even as he spoke, his attention was diverted to the sight of one of the guests dropping suddenly to the floor, causing a murmur of concern. Almost immediately afterwards, on the other side of the room, another collapsed as others began to stagger slightly.

"Doctor!" Martha cried from the middle of the room, causing the Time Lord to hurry to her.

"Grace!" he exclaimed, seeing his wife lying on the floor with Martha at her side.

"She just fainted," Martha explained as the Doctor dropped to one knee to check his wife's condition.

"She's not the only one," he quickly told her. Then, without diverting his eyes from Grace's still form, he ordered Jack and Martha, "Get everyone out of here."

Jack needed no further explanation. It was plainly obvious that the room was being flooded quickly with a colorless gas, rendering people unconscious at an alarming rate. The solution, of course, seemed simple: open all the doors and escort people outside the building before finding the cause of the flooding and stopping it. But Jack learned a long time ago that things never seemed to go the simple way when it came to either the Doctor or himself.

Jack sent Martha to open one door, furthest from the air vents, while he attended the other.

"Doors are locked from the outside!" he shouted to the Doctor when he couldn't open his door. He turned his head to get verification from Martha only to see her succumb to the increasingly gas flooded room. Mentally, he cursed, kicking the door. "Need a little help here!" he told the Doctor, frustration clear in his voice.

Finally having assured himself of Grace's eventual recovery, the Doctor quickly stood and reached into his jacket for his sonic screwdriver. Coughing against the growing metallic stench, he tossed the device to Jack and carefully started towards the other door to see what he could do to get it open. He didn't get far when Jack's incredulous voice filled his ears.

"They're deadlocked sealed!"

The Doctor quickly turned towards Jack at his words, an action he immediately regretted as his head swam in protest. He was starting to really feel the effects of the gas on him, effects that not even his respiratory bypass system could stall. A quick glance at the rest of the room revealed that he and Jack were, quite literally, the last two men standing. He knew it wasn't going to be long before even that changed.

"That's impossible! Humans don't have… that kind of… technology yet," the Doctor protested, coughing between pauses as he approached Jack, taking the sonic screwdriver back from him. His blurred eyes tried to read the setting to make sure Jack was using it correctly – he was, of course – but everything around him seemed to shift, causing him to lose his balance and collapse into Jack's arms.

"Whoa!" Jack exclaimed, helping him to the floor. "Take it easy. I'll get us out," he assured, retrieving the sonic screwdriver from the floor where the Doctor had dropped it.

The Doctor blinked at Jack, suddenly feeling a bit of envy for his immortal friend. Not that he envied Jack's immortality. But Jack's unique physiology made it impossible for him to pass out from something as simple as a sudden change in atmospheric conditions.

"Can't breathe," the Doctor breathed, leaning against the wall Jack had propped him against. "Jack…" Whatever he was going to say was lost as his eyes drifted closed and his body went slack, showing that he himself was finally defeated by the noxious fumes that filled the room.

"Damn it!" Jack cursed. A quick check of the Doctor's vitals showed that he'd recover, giving Jack some relief as he explored the options, which were none to speak of. Both doors were deadlock sealed, preventing even the sonic screwdriver unlocking them. The vents themselves had no shut off or reversal, which left only one option. Someone had to open the doors from the outside.

Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed 911 and waited. Nothing happened. Not even a single ring. He frowned with frustration, instantly recognizing the technology involved. Communications disrupters were common with the Time Agency and Jack had no doubt that one was being used now. Going to Martha, he apologized to her still form as he searched for her phone, one he knew the Doctor had updated with universal roaming. Again, no ring, no connectivity.

"So, it's a waiting game," he commented to himself. Positioning himself so that he could get to either of the doors quickly, he took a deep breath and exhaled, wincing slightly at the burn the action caused his already healing lungs. "Alright, Roni. Your move."

He didn't have to wait long.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nearly two years of meticulous planning and execution was finally about to come to fruition. Veronica Ramses smiled gently at the thought while she watched and waited for the gas to take effect. But even as she waited, she couldn't help but wonder how her current partner, Ms. Mayhill, was able to arrange the set-up. But then again, she supposed a woman who could find a lost planet of an ancient and powerful race could probably do almost anything.

It had taken the duo over a year of space travel to find the planet, using a trail of clues that Harriet Mayhill had them follow. And when they finally found the planet, Mayhill insisted that Roni wait in the timeship while she disembarked alone. And when she returned several hours later wheeling a large barrel in front of her, she gave no explanation, only instructing Roni to return to Earth in the 21st century. After that, Roni had been sorely tempted just to kill Mayhill and continue with her own quest for revenge on Jack Harkness without her aide. After all, what good was a partner if all they did was take from you, giving you nothing in return but grief? But for some odd reason, she just couldn't kill her. It was almost as if the mysterious woman had a hypnotic power over Roni that the latter couldn't fight.

It was Mayhill who connected the barrel of gas to the environmental systems of the hall where the Holloway funeral reception was taking place. It was Mayhill who deadlock sealed the doors once the Doctor and his entourage were in the room. And it was Mayhill who turned on the non-lethal – or so Mayhill had assured Roni – gas to flood the ballroom, knocking all except one unconscious. All Roni had to do was go get their prize which, to Roni's great annoyance, did not include Jack Harkness.

"We should take him too," Roni again protested as the two women stood outside of the hall.

"No," Mayhill insisted with a glare. "Stick to the plan. We need him here on Earth."

"You mean _you_ need him here on Earth," Roni contradicted. "_I_ need him on that planet you found, suffering."

"And _I_ have those planets coordinates, which I've already removed from your ship's memory banks for insurance purposes," Mayhill retaliated with a wicked grin. "You're stuck doing things my way if you want things your way, Miss Ramses. Now, I suggest that you do as you are told before I decide that you are too much of a liability." Without any further word to her, but feeling Roni's response in the form of a vicious glare at her back, she stepped towards the door and released the deadlock seal with a small dangerous-looking device. Then, taking a step back, she turned to Roni with a grin. "You're on… partner." She patted Roni's shoulder with four quick taps before continuing on her way, the grin still firmly in place.

Roni watched for a moment as the woman walked from the scene, supposedly to prepare the timeship for take off with their prize in the storage hold. Then, realizing once again that she needed Mayhill more than Mayhill needed her, she slipped on the gas mask that would protect her from becoming another casualty of the flooded ballroom. Pulling out her laser blaster, she pulled hard on one of the doors, stepping back to allow the doors to swing open on their own.

"Jack," she called out, her voice muffled by the mask on her face. Seeing nothing but still forms in the room, she continued, unconsciously tapping a rhythm against the handle of her blaster. "I know you're unaffected by the gas so you might as well come out where I can see you." She paused, waiting for a reply of some kind. Getting none, she raised her blaster and aimed for the closest person in her sights. "You may be able to recover from a laser blast to the chest, Jack, but I don't think the nice lady in front of the door will. She looks familiar, Jack. Doesn't she work for you?"

Jack, who had pressed himself against a wall just next to the door when he heard the door unlock, glanced to the woman in question, instantly recognizing Martha. Silently, he cursed. Why couldn't Roni just walk into a nice little trap like a good girl instead of threatening the life of a dear friend of his? Taking a breath of the slowly dissipating fumes, he exhaled and pushed away from the wall. Cautiously, he walked into Roni's view, his hands up in surrender.

"So, now what?" Jack questioned, once again wishing that he hadn't obeyed the Doctor's insistence that he remain unarmed.

Roni smiled under her gas mask. "Quite simple," she told him. "I collect my prize and leave while you and everyone else wait here until the police and fire department come to the rescue." She took a step forward, obviously ready to do exactly what she had just said.

Jack shook his head. "Can't let you do that, Roni," he told her plainly. Slowly lowering his hands, he extended one of them towards her. "Give me the blaster, Roni, and I promise no harm will come to you." Getting to reaction from her, he lowered the pro-offered hand. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded, his frustration showing easily in his voice.

"Again, simple," she replied. "Revenge." Without further word, she fired three times into Jack's chest, watching with some delight as he fell to the floor, his eyes still open. Walking up to his still form, she shivered slightly. "Still freaks me out," she muttered to herself as she searched for and retrieved the one person needed to complete Mayhill's master plan.


	13. Chapter 13: Painful Discoveries

_**Author's note:**__ As you may have noted before, I am having several Gallifreyan phrases in this story. Since no one on Doctor Who has ever spoken in Gallifreyan, I have envisioned what the language would sound like. I also wanted the language to have a particular kind of syntax rather than just make it up as I go along (I have read stories where other authors have done that and it really bothered me). As such, I have created a database of Gallifreyan words and grammatical rules. Please see the "Gallifreyan Translations" chapter for any translations of Gallifreyan phrases. If you want to see my database, please email me. But keep in mind that, since new words must be created as needed, the database is incomplete._

_My version of Gallifreyan has one word meaning many things (all related to each other), whereas English has many words meaning the same thing. Pronunciation of Gallifreyan is phonetic. I's are pronounced "ee", "u" is pronounced "oo", "ii" is pronounced "eye", R's are always rolled, J's have a slight "z" sound to them (like in the name Jean Claude), and all consonants are hard. Two consonants together indicate an elongated sound._

_Reviews, like bananas, are good and full of potassium… umm… perhaps not the potassium part…_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 13**

The first things that he felt were his lungs. They felt as if they were on fire, a sensation he couldn't recall ever experiencing. At least, not like this. He felt as if he were suffocating in spite of the abundance of carbon dioxide reaching the frail organs under his ribcage. He grimaced strongly as he realized that his respiratory system wasn't the only thing he owned that was in agony. His head pounded in protest of whatever it was that continued to hit it repeatedly and at regular intervals. Funny how the same thing that was hurting his head was also making his lungs burn harder.

It was only after he also felt his body rock in time with the agonies that he realized the three of them – the pain in his head, the fire in his lungs, and the rocking of his body – were all a result of the same thing, namely the persistent hacking cough coming from his body. The coughing seemed to continue for forever – time being relative, of course – before it stopped mercifully.

Rolling on his side, he coughed twice more, as if the last two coughs were just waiting to be released, and clutched his pounding head. Despite the agony, rational thought started to seep into his mind. He remembered being in a ballroom, drinking a glass of wine when… when… Why couldn't his mind work? Something had happened. Something important. Something involving someone very dear to him. Auburn red hair and bluish-green eyes pierced into his mind, clearly terrified, hurting his soul.

"Grace." The word slipped out of him as if it were the hardest thing he had ever said. Just the sound of the word, however, brought him the rest of the way into reality, causing him to close his eyes tightly against the bright light that invaded his dilated pupils. "_Mamis freire!_" the Doctor protested in his native tongue, covering his eyes with one hand. He coughed again as he slowly started opening his eyes. Moaning against that idea, he groused, "_Zin, jom di apelhez!_"

As if in answer to his complaints, the sound of a door opening and closing filled his ears, followed by the lights fading to a gentle glow.

"Better?" a male voice said softly from somewhere to his right.

Slowly, the Doctor opened his eyes, relieved to find he was able to see quite clearly despite his pounding head. "'_Base' sa sitituz_," he grumbled. He exhaled slowly, looking around with curiosity despite his headache. "_TARDIS ma jomz lu. Prahildumis. Jom ma jomz beru?_" He looked over to the man who had spoken, finally aware of his identity.

Jack gave him a sad smile. "Hate to tell you this, Doctor, but I'm not very fluent in Gallifreyan, assuming that is what you are speaking in, of course." He noted the Doctor's attempt to sit up and immediately went to gently restrain him. "Just lay right there. You obviously aren't well and need rest."

The Doctor obeyed the order, laying flat on his back, his eyes focused on the ceiling. "Grace," he demanded. "_Grace jomz jeru_?" Hearing not even a word – surely Jack was intelligent enough to guess as to what he was asking! – the Doctor turned his head towards the Captain, seeing a peculiar look on his face. Oh, yes. He definitely had an inkling of what the Doctor wanted to know.

"Jack," he started again, his brown eyes growing dark. "_Grace jomz jeru?_" Sitting up despite orders, the Doctor faced the Captain with growing trepidation and impatience. "_Da jomz jeru?_!" he demanded, his voice rising with anger.

Jack stepped back, stunned by the vehemence in the Doctor's tone but nonetheless understanding it. He could only understand one word the Doctor spoke – the name of his wife – so he couldn't tell with absolute certainty what it was the Doctor was saying. Still, a concerned husband, in any language, was pretty obvious. And the Doctor's tone wasn't making the situation any easier on Jack.

Grabbing his shoulders tightly, Jack peered into the Doctor's eyes with sympathy. "She's gone," he told him bluntly, stunning the Time Lord into silence. "Grace is gone."

"_Nafeloz?_" the Doctor whispered. Closing his eyes tightly to force back the emotions that came from Jack's blunt statement, he swallowed. "_Kardii maha pandel di basal ne. Da bressinz. Ma pandez. Da jomz jeru?_"

Jack sighed in frustration, dropping his hands from his hold on the Doctor. "Gawd, I wish I knew what the hell you were saying." Seeing his frustration reflected in his friend's eyes, he took a breath. "Well, at least you can understand what I'm saying."

"_Apelhere_," the Doctor confirmed with a nod. "_Grace sa anneusam_ _aje_." He gestured a hand towards Jack, indicating his wish for him to speak.

Jack looked at the Doctor for a long moment before deciding – correctly – that the Doctor wanted to know what happened to his wife. After all, if Jack were married, wouldn't he want to know why his wife was gone? Tucking his hands into his trousers for lack of better use of them, he took a breath.

"I'll start from just after you passed out in the ballroom," Jack told him. Hearing the Doctor reply, "_Pande basa_," – whatever that meant – he continued. "I couldn't get the doors open. I couldn't get the ventilation to work properly either. I tried getting a call out on Martha's cell – figured it would work best with that universal roaming feature you gave it – but I wasn't able to get a signal. That told me that a communications disrupter was being used…"

The Doctor exhaled, already growing impatient with Jack's explanation. "Jack," he interrupted. "Grace," he reminded him, giving him a look that told him to cut to the chase.

"Ramses took her," Jack replied to the look. "I couldn't stop her. Shot me three times with a laser blaster." Seeing the Doctor's sympathetic look, he gave a sad smile. "I've had worse." He frowned slightly, shaking his head. "What I don't understand is… why Grace? If Roni's after you – whether to arrest you or to take some kind of misplaced revenge - and you were right there, unconscious, why not just take you?" He looked to the Doctor who just raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation to his thoughts. "Roni's a bit of a blunt instrument. Clever, conniving, but very direct. Taking someone to get to someone else just isn't her style."

The Doctor exhaled slowly, standing from the bed. "_W'han, Grace bressinz. Da mii tanolez episeoz ne aje. Ren. Ma mii tanolem._" He frowned, obviously concerned. "_English ma anneusaz ne beru?_" He looked at Jack for a moment. "_Ue TARDIS sitituz ne beru?_" Seeing Jack shake his head and shrug, the Doctor sighed. "_W'han, ma sa riebiiolz atinam ne ma vierez irwa anneusii maha sa pandez ne. W'han…_" He stood from the medical couch and took a step forward. The moment he did, though, the room began to spin, causing him to lose his balance.

"Whoa!" Jack exclaimed, steadying him on his feet. "Maybe you should stay lying down for a while," he suggested. "At least until you get your sea legs back."

The Doctor shook his head. "_Ma prahilz. Pah ma tintem prito._" He looked around the room for a moment before his eyes caught onto something on the far side. A grin broke out on his face. "_Zin!_" Making his way to the object of his focus, he noted Jack's following him protectively. "_Lesinii drenta! Drenta maja ma lesinaz episeoz. Irse ma jarnom ber ma ediraz irware ma tranza abrellel jomwa. W'han, dameti zatnere maha jomz jeru?_"He patted himself down in search of his sonic screwdriver, frowning when he couldn't seem to find it.

Jack reached into one of his own coat pockets, pulling out the object of the Doctor's desire. "Looking for this?"

The Doctor took it quickly, a child-like grin on his face. "_Pah sa jomz! W'han, maha ma perzatez episeoz ue…_" He set the small machine to the appropriate setting and ran it a few inches over his chest before looking at it with question. "_Drenta maha glen jomz lu. Ren di ma regonsiez ne_._ Di jomz peru?_"

The room went suddenly silent as the Doctor tucked his sonic screwdriver away and pulled out a gun-like object, which he placed against his arm. Jack watched in silence, barely keeping track of what was happening, as his friend drew blood and began to run test on it. Every once in a while, the Doctor seemed to have trouble standing, to which Jack began again to insist he rest. Each time, though, the Doctor shook him off, repeating the phrase, "_Ma prahilz_," which Jack realized, after hearing it so often, meant "I'm fine."

"Like hell you are," he replied the last time the Doctor said the sentence, gaining a surprised look from the Doctor. Jack just gave him a small smile. "You hear something often enough, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what it means, given the circumstances. And I still say you need rest. You can barely stay on your feet."

The Doctor shook his head. "_Ma jarnoz episeoz ber ma prahilz ne._"

"See, you just admitted yourself you aren't fine," Jack countered, recognizing the oft repeated word and a negative indicator. Getting an irritated look from the Doctor for his words, he took a step back and raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. You want to make yourself sicker, that's up to you. But I've had enough and in about thirty seconds, I'm going to pull Martha in here to help me pick you up bodily and strap you to a bed before putting a heavy dose of sedatives into you. Now, which is it going to be? Do I bring in Martha? Or are you going to cooperate and rest?"

The Doctor's thin frame went taut at Jack threat. "_Sa atinad ne._"

Again, Jack didn't have to know the words to know what the Doctor was saying; his stance and tone told the former Time Agent everything. "In a human's heartbeat," he replied, his face showing how serious he was.

The Doctor sighed, sagging slightly as if the exhalation of air from his lungs had deflated his whole body.

"_Sa vikarez._" He raised his right index finger, pointing to his friend. "_Lianiiel prito. Plun ma atinaz episeoz!_"

Jack watched with wary eyes as the Doctor slowly returned to the bed and crawled onto it with an exhausted sigh, closing his eyes as he did so. He felt Jack's eyes continuing to watch him and, after a moment, his cracked open an eyelid.

"_Peru?_" he questioned, obviously a little annoyed with Jack's vigil.

"Just making sure that you are actually going to stay on that bed," Jack told him.

"_Ma atinam. Ma nolehem._" To prove his point, he closed his eyes again. After a moment, he opened them again, looking at his friend. "Jack… _akukua? Kardajarno_?" He made the motion of drinking from a glass before folding his hands to help convey his words.

"You want water," Jack surmised, getting a second "_Kardajarno_" in response. He sighed slightly. "Okay." He pointed threateningly to him. "But you stay in bed."

The Doctor nodded slightly. "_Ma lianiielm_," he proclaimed, giving him an index finger salute to acknowledge the order. Dropping his arm to his side, he again closed his eyes.

Jack waited a few long seconds before turning and exiting the medical bay to retrieve the requested water. His instincts were telling him not to obey that request but, at the same time, he had no way of proving what he suspected. It was entirely possible that the Doctor was honestly going to rest as ordered. It wouldn't be the first time the Time Lord had surprised him by letting go of his stubbornness.

The Doctor waited a good thirty seconds after the door closed to be sure that Jack was truly gone from the room, before he sat up. "_TARDIS,_ _prahildumis fermitam_," he ordered, pushing himself off of the bed. Hearing the familiar sound of the locks setting in place, the Doctor smiled before making his way back to the work table. He knew he was close to finding the answer and he didn't need Jack Harkness or, heavens forbid Martha Jones, getting on him about something as mundane as resting.

Running a hand through his hair, he located and slipped on his glasses before continuing the task at hand. He started the first set of tests just as several loud bangs came from the main door. The Doctor smiled slightly. There was no doubt in his mind that Jack had just discovered that he'd been tricked into leaving the medical bay and was now locked out. The Doctor knew the TARDIS wasn't going to open that door without his authorization. He also knew that he was weakening rapidly. He needed to find the answers quickly or he'd find himself on the floor with his only help trapped on the other side.

Knowing the TARDIS' equipment would be able to scan his blood and find anomalies far more efficiently than his sonic screwdriver, he quickly places the blood sample into the scanners and waited. What he discovered stunned him into silence, albeit briefly.

"_Washiirene_!" he proclaimed, staring at the results, waiting for them to change into something more rational. When it didn't, he shook his head in denial as he looked about the medical bay. "_Riebiiol ma episeoz ue di ma glenm ne irwa English ma anneusaz ne._" He took a deep breath, determination on his face. "_TARDIS, makanii maha dii glenz po sa…_"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Glass of water in hand, Jack approached the medical bay door with trepidation. Every instinct he had screamed at him and it didn't take long to find out why. Despite his best wheedling with the TARDIS, which hummed mournfully to his pleading, the door would not open to him. Even beating it with his fists did nothing except to hurt him.

"Son of a bitch!" he proclaimed, pounding the door one more time as Martha seemed to miraculously appear at his side. "Where the hell were you?" Jack yelled at her, causing her to take a step back, plainly stunned. Seeing that her arms were full – a blanket and pillow being the most prevalent – he sighed, remembering he had been left in the TARDIS to watch over the Doctor while Martha got medical and food supplies from the house. "I'm sorry," he said contritely, leaning against the corridor wall.

"What the hell happened?" Martha questioned as she quickly put down the supplies in her arms, concern growing in her eyes. "I've only been gone for ten minutes!"

Jack sighed. "Two words. The Doctor," he told her. Glancing at the now nearly empty glass in his hand – most of the water was now on the floor of the TARDIS after being sloshed out from Jack's attack on the door – he put the glass on the floor where it couldn't be knocked over. "Damn it, it's all my fault. I _knew_ he was up to something but…" He sighed again. Seeing the confusion on Martha's face, he took a deep breath and explained all that had happened from the moment he had walked into the medical bay to find the Doctor just waking, to the instant before Martha had found him hitting the medical bay door.

"He's locked himself in and the TARDIS isn't letting us get to him," Jack concluded.

"So, what do we do?" Martha asked.

Jack shook his head. "The only thing we can do is bypass the TARDIS' control on the door and that could take hours. Otherwise…" His words were interrupted by the most terrifying noise he could ever remember hearing.

The sound that filtered through the door was agony and terror rolled into one horrible scream. It ripped into Jack's and Martha's souls, sending painful chills down their spines. It seemed an eternity before the scream stopped, leaving nothing but even more terrible silence in its wake.

"Doctor," Martha whispered with trepidation, praying that her fears were unfounded. The last time she had heard a scream like that from him, he'd hooked himself up to the chameleon arch. Even then, it hadn't terrified her as much as this one had.

Almost as if an answer to her whisper, the door unlocked and opened, allowing the two companions to rush in. The sight they beheld caused them both to freeze in their tracks for a moment before they hurried to the Doctor's side.

The Doctor was slumped against the side of the medical bed, unconscious but twitching at random intervals in reaction to some unknown source. The most distinctive things, though, were the circular pads attached to each of his temples and the red circles of damaged skin peeking from underneath the pads. Soft whimpers seeped from his dry lips, an involuntary reaction to the pain he was obviously feeling even in his unconscious state.

"What the hell did he do to himself?" Jack questioned with concern as Martha examined their friend.

Gingerly, the young physician checked for physical damage other than the ugly redness at the Doctor's temples. Finding none, she had Jack help put the Doctor on the bed. She then carefully removed the pads, wincing with sympathy before looking at the pads more closely.

"Jack, these look like defibrillator pads," she commented, her voice shaking slightly with shock. "Like he was giving himself electroshock therapy." She looked up at Jack to see the shared concern in his eyes. "Why would he do that?"

"My synapses needed to be realigned."

Jack and Martha turned towards the voice, pleasantly startled by it.

"You're okay!" Martha exclaimed, beaming a smile towards him. "You scared us to death!"

The Doctor cracked open an eye to look at them. "Both look alive to me."

"You're speaking English!" Jack added to the observations.

"Spoke it my entire life," the Doctor replied.

"But you weren't speaking in English earlier."

"Told you. My synapses needed to be realigned. One part of my brain wasn't communicating with another part, preventing me from being able to speak in anything other than Gallifreyan. Had to force my brain to function properly by giving it a jolt of electricity." He winced strongly. "Not exactly the best plan in the world but, given the circumstances…" He moaned slightly. "Gave me a hell of a headache, though. Remind me never to do that again."

"What circumstances?" Martha questioned.

"_Rassilon'it-shan_," the Doctor replied softly.

Jack and Martha exchanged confused glances, wondering if the Doctor's inventive solution had backfired on him.

Noticing the silence in the room, the Doctor opened his eyes and turned his head towards the two. The expressions on their faces told him quite easily what they were thinking.

"It means 'The Judgment of Rassilon'. It's a colorless gas with a slightly metallic scent to it that is apparently harmless to humans, though it will render them unconscious. Well, that's what we've just discovered anyway. It's saturated throughout my body."

"The gas Roni used in the ballroom," Jack surmised. He paused, thinking about the Doctor's words. "You said harmless to humans. What about Time Lords?"

The Doctor didn't answer immediately, watching his friends, wishing that he could ease the news he had.

"It's deadly to Time Lords."

"But… with a name like that, it's obviously Time Lord," Martha commented. "Why would the Time Lords have created something that would kill them?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Why do humans create new ways of killing themselves every day?"

"But that's humans," Jack commented before Martha could become upset about the implications of the Doctor's words. "The Time Lords were supposed to be a peaceful people."

"They were, for the most part." Slowly sitting up, the Doctor took a deep breath and exhaled. "Back in the Age of Omega, before the Age of Rassilon, there was a Time Lord who had gone mad during his second incarnation. He'd tortured and murdered fourteen people – Time Lords and civilian Gallifreyans – before he was captured. When the mental healers tried to cure him, the shock of being in mental communication with an incurably mad Time Lord was too much for them. They went insane themselves.

"As you know, killing a Time Lord is not easy. We regenerate. The Council had never executed a Time Lord before but they knew that they would have to in that case. He was just too powerful to be incarcerated for life. The Council had two choices available to them: either kill him and wait for him to regenerate before killing him again and repeating the process until he ran out of regenerations, which would have been literally torturing him for seven Earth days straight, or find a more humane way to execute Time Lords. Out of a sense of mercy, they chose the latter. They locked him in a shielded room, to prevent him from influencing others, until they could find the answer. Scientists worked on the problem for a year before they found it."

"_Rassilon'it-shan_," Jack put in knowingly, gaining a nod from the Doctor in response.

"It prevents the brain from informing the cells in the body that they need to regenerate," the Doctor continued. "Unfortunately, affecting a Time Lord's brain in such a way eventually leads to irreparable brain damage. It also has the very nasty side effect of weakening the immune system. Add those two factors together and, eventually, if he isn't executed, a Time Lord will die from either disease or brain damage." He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "The Time Lords used it for executions until the Council banned the death penalty, deciding that it was cruel. Instead, they decided to send Gallifrey's criminals to Shada to be cryogenically incarcerated. There were a few exceptions to the ban, using a different method of execution." He chuckled slightly. "Myself included. Not that they succeeded." Seeing the confused looks Martha and Jack were giving him, he simply told them, "It's a long story."

"Wait a minute. I've heard of Shada," Jack stated, snapping his fingers. "The lost planet of the Time Lords. It's supposed to have survived the Last Great Time War. Well, that's what the legend says. Never believed it myself. Never believed that Shada even existed. It's supposed to hold the riches of Gallifrey."

The Doctor frowned at his words. "Never heard that legend. I can guarantee, though, that the only thing Shada ever held were the dregs of Gallifrey. Well, for the most part anyway. As usual, there were exceptions."

Martha looked between the two men. "I think we're diverging from the issue here." She looked to the Doctor with sadness and fear. "You're dying." Seeing the somber expression in her dear friend's eyes, she reached out and gently touched his hand. "Is there anything that we can do?"

The Doctor swallowed tightly before exhaling slowly, trying to calm his frayed nerves. Raising his head, he gazed upon two of his closest friends. "Help me find Grace." He hesitated before finishing his thoughts. "I don't want to die alone."


	14. Gallifreyan translations

Mamis freiz

**GALLIFREYAN TRANSLATIONS**

Literal translations are in parentheses.

**CHAPTER 10 (?)**

**Sa ma kardaz **– I love you

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

**CHAPTER 13**

**Mamis freire! – **Merciful mother!

**Zin, jom di apelhez! – **Damn, it's bright! (Yes, it is bright here!)

'**Base' sa sitituz. – **Define 'better'.

**TARDIS ma jomz lu. Prahildumis. Jom ma jomz beru? –**I'm in the TARDIS. Medical bay (cure place). Why am I here?

**Grace/Da jomz jeru? – **Where is Grace/she?

**Nafeloz? Kardii maha pandel di basal ne. Da bressinz. Ma pandez. – **Missing? My hearts knew it wasn't good. She's alive. I know.

**Apelhere – **Apparently

**Grace sa anneusam aje. – **Tell me about Grace. (You will speak about Grace.)_**A/N: **__This is phrased as a request, not an order._

**Pande basa. – **Good idea.

**W'han, Grace bressinz. Da mii tanolez episeoz ne aje. Ren. Ma mii tanolem. English ma anneusaz ne beru?** **Ue TARDIS sitituz ne beru? – **Well, Grace is alive. We don't need to worry about her. Yet. Let's worry about me. Why am I not speaking English? And why isn't the TARDIS translating?

**W'han, ma sa riebiiolz atinam ne ma vierez irwa anneusii maha sa pandez ne. W'han… - **Well, I can see you won't be able to help to me if you can't understand my words. So…

**Ma prahilz. Pah ma tintem prito.** - I'm fine. Got a little dizzy there.

**Zin!** – Yes! _**A/N:**__ The same as saying "of course!"_

**Lesinii drenta! Drenta maja ma lesinaz episeoz. Irse ma jarnom ber ma ediraz irware ma tranza abrellel jomse. W'han, dameti zatnere maha jomz jeru? - **Blood tests! Need to test my blood. Then I will discover why I feel like a transport has sped over me. Now, where's my sonic screwdriver?

**Pah sa jomz! W'han, maha ma perzatez episeoz ue… - **There you are! Now, I need to scan myself and…

**Drenta maha glen jomz lu. Ren di ma regonsiez ne. Di jomz peru?- **Something's in my blood. But I don't recognize it. What is it?

**Ma jarnoz episeoz ber ma prahilz ne.** – I need to find why I am not well.

**Sa atinad ne.** – You wouldn't.

**Sa vikarez. Lianiiel prito! Plun ma atinaz episeoz! **– You win. A little break! I have much to do!

**Peru? **– What?

**Ma atinam. Ma nolehem.** - I will. I will sleep.

**Akukua. Kardajarno. **– Water. Please.

**Ma lianiielm**_**.**_ – I will rest.

**TARDIS, prahildumis fermitam.** – TARDIS, seal the medical bay.

**Washiirene!** – Impossible!

**Riebiiol ma episeoz ue di ma glenm ne irwa English ma anneusaz ne.** **TARDIS, makanii** **maha dii glenz po sa…** - I need help and I won't have it if I can't speak English. TARDIS, these are my orders for you…

**Rassilon'it-shan** – Rassilon's Judgment: a non-lethal gas that disables a Time Lord's physiology, making it impossible for him or her to go into a healing coma or regenerate - used for general executions

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Chapter 14**

**Karda maha sa glenz. **– You own my heart.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Chapter 17**

**Kardajarno! Ma sa meriham, kardatare!** – Please! Forgive me, beloved!

**Ushazte maha **– My everything

**Grace laharni maha **– My amazing Grace

**kardatare maha** – My beloved


	15. Chapter 14: Across the Distance

_Without reviews, my inspiration dwindles. Please let me know how I'm doing so you can read more. Thanks!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 14**

Veronica Ramses watched in stunned silence as her prisoner – or rather Harriet Mayhill's prisoner – screamed and pulled herself into a ball, her hands pressed against the sides of her head. She couldn't understand how things had changed so rapidly. One minute, Grace Smith was shouting threats, demanding to be released and then next minute she seemed to be in agony from some unknown cause. The screaming continued for about fifteen to twenty seconds – though to Roni it seemed to have lasted at least two minutes – before Grace stopped screaming and started to sob softly, murmuring the word "Doctor" almost as if it were a prayer.

Roni couldn't help but feel pity for the woman in the metal cage. Ever since she'd carried Grace from the ballroom and onto the ship, she had a distinct impression that Grace was just another innocent involved in Mayhill's twisted game of cat and mouse. Even as she launched her ship, Roni's instincts were to take Grace back down to Earth and to capture the Doctor and Jack Harkness instead. Why Mayhill wanted to do this the hard way, Roni didn't know. The only thing she could suppose was that it had something to do with the 1960s Police Box that Mayhill had insisted she find the key to, even to the extreme of killing Grace's parents. But if that were the case, why didn't they just take the antique? Surely there were ways into the box without the need of its key. Roni herself had become an expert lock picker over the years.

"Is he in pain, your beloved Doctor?" Mayhill's cruel voice said from behind Roni. She stepped around the former Time Agent to allow herself to be easily seen by her prisoner. Her brown contact lenses and brown wig were gone, revealing blond hair that fell over her shoulders and blue eyes that held an odd mixture of submissiveness and cruelty. The pantsuit she wore matched her eyes not only in color but also in austerity.

Grace raised her head slowly at the question, wondering how the woman, whoever she was, could know the reason for her own screams. The Doctor had warned her before they had married and had consummated their relationship that being telepathically linked to each other would allow them to feel each other's emotions. And it had been wonderful until that moment. Even the sadness they quite literally shared had been wonderful. It was comforting to know, without any doubt, that someone truly understood what you were feeling and reciprocated the feeling to you. But then, only moments ago, sheer agony ripped through her head and Grace knew something horrible had happened to her Doctor. The pain was tinted with unbelievable sorrow and despair, making her weep when the pain had almost completely vanished, traces of it lingering at her temples and deep in her mind. What did he do to himself? The words electroshock therapy rang through her mind even as she looked at the woman who was taunting her.

"Who are you?" she croaked out, her mouth noticeably dry to her. Blinking at the woman, she frowned slightly. "Wait a minute. I know you. Two year ago, you were in the news. You murdered your husband in full view of ten witnesses."

Mayhill shook her head slightly. "Oh, you know how the media tends to exaggerate everything. There were only nine witnesses. One wasn't even human and another hadn't been human in a very long time so I'm not sure you can count them. And it wasn't murder," she added, crouching to be at eye level with Grace. "It was a jailbreak. Besides, they never did find his body, did they? It mysteriously vanished. I wasn't my fault his body disappeared. Of course, I'm the one they accuse anyway. Typical British justice," she stated derogatorily before she gave an odd smile. "And now, it's time for some real justice. Well, revenge really. But they really are the same thing on the grand scale of things, don't you think?"

Grace swallowed slightly, finding her footing and slowly standing up. "What exactly is it that you want of me?"

"Of you?" Mayhill repeated the query. "You are the bait. Your husband and his TARDIS are the fish. And I know he'll come for you. How can he abandon the woman he loves? That is, of course, if he does love you."

"What does that mean?" Grace demanded with a glare.

"Oh, we've given him a little test. You see, he's dying. How he spends what little life he has left will show what kind of man he truly is. One way or the other, though, we still get him and his TARDIS." Mayhill tilted her head towards Roni. "And my friend here gets Jack Harkness."

"What do you mean, he's dying? He can't…"

"Why not? Because he's a Time Lord you think he's immortal? Or are you taking into account the remaining three regenerations he is supposed to have?" Mayhill peered at her through the bars that separated them. "Well, guess what? I cancelled them. He also doesn't have much of an immune system at the moment. He can get sick so easily."

Grace rushed the bars, fury in her eyes. "What have you done to him?!" she demanded, barely noticing how her voice quivered and wishing that she could hide her fear better.

"I guess you could call it the Time Lord equivalent of HIV except it's non-communicable. It will kill him very slowly, if he doesn't die of a disease first. But, knowing your beloved's determination, I have no doubt that you two will be reunited long enough to say goodbye to him… just before _my_ beloved makes good use of him." She smiled at Grace mischievously. "By the way, he's so anxious to become reacquainted with you. It's been such a long time."

It was then that Grace saw it. There, hidden in Mayhill's eyes, was a familiar presence, one that had been, for a very brief and terrifying time, inside her own mind, controlling her. Only in this case, Mayhill welcomed that presence in her, embraced it even.

Grace looked into those terrifying eyes. "Who are you really?"

Mayhill just smiled knowingly at her question before turning and walking away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor leaned his thin frame against the console, his head bowed as he growled with frustration. Even after four weeks of work with Jack's help, he still couldn't find a way to make the TARDIS travel through time and space, even if it were just for one trip. It seemed that even the last Time Lord couldn't bend the laws of physics and make biowires grow faster or rewire a timeship to do his bidding. It didn't matter if he was trying to do the equivalent of making a sock function the same as a pair of trousers in the middle of a snowstorm.

It didn't help any, in his opinion, that he was constantly tired, not that he'd admit it to either Jack or Martha. He was also certain that he'd lost some weight. His normally perfect fitting pinstriped suit felt loose around his chest and stomach. That and his growing inability to concentrate was causing him some little concern and reminding him how ill he really was despite his best efforts to ignore it.

On top of all that, and worst of all, were the emotions that he could feel coming from his amazing Grace. She seemed to be in an almost constant state of worry, tinged with fear and frustration. Oh, he knew she was unharmed but it did nothing to assure him of her safety. He knew he wouldn't feel comfortable until he had her protectively in his arms. The way he was gradually deteriorating though, he had a feeling their reunion would most likely have Grace protecting him. It wasn't, in his view, the best prospect ever but he'd take it. The separation from his love was slowly ripping his hearts apart.

The TARDIS hummed in his mind sympathetically, trying to comfort him in his weakness. He raised his head at the hum and gave his timeship a small smile.

"I'll be okay," he tried to assure. "I just need your help. Tell me what you need, girl. Tell me how to make you better." The Doctor sighed from the lack of response. He really didn't expect one. Asking the TARDIS what needed to be done to fix her was like asking a patient with very little medical experience how to stop internal bleeding. The TARDIS knew what was hurting but she didn't have a clue how to fix it.

"Coffee?" Jack offered, a mug in each of his hands, startling the Doctor into opening eyes he didn't realize he had closed. Jack gave him a small understanding smile, knowing the Doctor hadn't notice him approaching.

"Thank you," the Doctor murmured, accepting one of the mugs and then sipping the hot brew inside it. He grimaced slightly at the strength of the coffee but didn't say anything. He needed strong coffee to keep going.

There was an uneasy silence between the two men, a silence that seemed to creep in between them every time they were in the same room ever since the revelation of the Doctor's current condition. Jack was usually the one who broke that silence and today wasn't an exception.

"Martha teleported back to Cardiff to check on my team. Told her to let me know if there was anything amiss," he informed the Time Lord, gaining an understanding nod in response. He knew Jack had procured a working time vortex manipulator. Fortunately, in the Doctor's view, only the teleport seemed to work on the device and its range was limited to a few thousand miles.

Jack took a breath, watching the Doctor for a moment. "You look completely exhausted."

"That's nothing new," he muttered around the lip of the mug before taking another drink, hoping the coffee would remove the chill he was feeling. It didn't.

Jack sighed slightly, leaning against the console beside him. "You aren't making yourself any better wearing yourself out."

The Doctor gave him a slight glare. "In case it escaped your notice, Jack, I'm not going to get any better soon. I'm dying and there's nothing we can do except postpone it. If all the stars line up, if you believe in that sort of thing, I have maybe three years."

"Well, you sure know how to cheer someone up," Jack commented sarcastically before taking a long drink from his own mug.

The Doctor closed his eyes, exhaling slowly before focusing on the mug in his hands. "I'm sorry," he finally said softly. "I'm feeling a bit sorry for myself."

Jack gave him a slight smile. "You have every right to," he conceded. "I'm guessing this isn't one of your good days."

The Time Lord chuckled slightly. "I'm having good days and bad days now?"

"Well, yesterday you were as happy as you could be, given the circumstances. Today, you're right ol' misery."

"Just a little tired," the Doctor murmured, finishing his coffee.

Jack nodded slightly to the expression in the Doctor's eyes, knowing what was running through his mind. "I'm sure she's fine."

"She's unharmed," the Doctor confirmed.

"But you're probably driving her a little crazy at the moment."

The Doctor looked at him with confusion. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, you said you two are telepathically linked and that you can feel her emotions and general physical state. It's reasonable to assume that the same goes for her when it comes to your emotions and general physical state. That means that she's feeling all that worry and negativity you're projecting like a film on a screen. And she knows that you're sick." He glanced at him thoughtfully. "Don't tell me that you hadn't considered that. I've seen that look on your face before these last three weeks."

"It's a little difficult keeping a cheery disposition when the woman you love is somewhere somewhen you don't know. At least not with absolute certainty."

"Can you talk to her?" Jack questioned. "I mean, telepathically."

"Possibly," the Doctor admitted. "But it can be extremely dangerous, especially for Grace. She's human. She wasn't born a telepath like me."

Jack pushed slightly off of the console, finding a seat on the chair across from the Doctor. "Maybe you should try. Grace seems a woman with a very strong mind."

The Doctor shook his head, not looking at Jack. "I can't risk it."

"And in the meantime, both of you continue in semi-isolation, only feeling each other's emotions rather than enjoying each other's company." Jack paused, watching his friend for a moment. "I can see it in your eyes, Doctor. You're exhausted and lonely. So, talk to her." Seeing him hesitate, Jack reached over and took the empty mug from the Doctor's hands. "You need your wife's support, Doctor. Friends are great but we're not her. Besides, she deserves to know what's happened."

The Doctor took a breath and slowly exhaled. "I'll think about it." Pushing himself from the console, he closed his eyes briefly to regain his equilibrium before giving Jack a self-deprecating smile. "I'm going to get some rest. Shouldn't be a couple of hours."

Jack returned the smile, hoping that the Doctor would be away from the console room for far longer than he estimated. "I'll keep working on the TARDIS."

Nothing further was said as the Doctor exited the room, going to his bedroom.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Grace._

She hummed slightly in protest, turning over in her cot – since when did she start thinking of it as hers? – and pulling the blanket further over her shoulder.

_Grace._

"Doctor," she murmured in her sleep, a smile creeping onto her face. She didn't want to wake from this dream to the realization that her husband was suffering on a daily basis and she was trapped somewhere somewhen on the other side of the universe.

_Don't speak. Think of me. Concentrate on my voice. I know you can do it. You're amazing. Come to me, Grace. Sa ma kardaz._

She obeyed the loving voice, following it deeper and deeper down a long corridor. In her mind, she closed her eyes for only a moment. When she opened them, she couldn't help the wide smile as she looked at her surroundings.

The house had an art nouveau feel to it mixed with something distinctively alien to Earth and yet she felt so at home in it. A glance to her right revealed a familiar open area, to which she slowly walked. The garden was exactly as she remembered it, save for one distinct item missing from the center of it. Instead of a large domed block of stone, there was a crystalline globe set on a circular stone slab.

"I've wanted to show you this for a while now," the loving voice said from behind her. "I've just been too afraid to do so. I was afraid your mind couldn't handle the strain. I'm so glad I was wrong."

She felt his hands on her shoulders, causing her to shiver slightly. They felt exactly the same as she remembered them, cool but gentle. She reached her right hand over to her left shoulder, touching his hand before turning around to face the owner of those hands.

"It is you," she said gently. She swallowed softly. "Am I dreaming? If so, I don't ever want to wake up."

The Doctor smiled at her words. "You're not dreaming." He frowned slightly. "Well, not exactly. It _is_ all in your mind. Well, more like all in _my_ mind and you are seeing it. Not that that means it isn't real. Well, that depends on your definition of real…"

Grace chuckled, interrupting his rant before he could really get into it. "Now I know it really is you. Only you can make no sense and complete sense at the same time."

That caused the Doctor's smile to widen. Slowly, though, as he gazed upon her, his smile faded into a look of deep longing. "I should have done this a long time ago."

Grace took his hands and held them tightly. "Why didn't you?" She ignored how cold his hands felt, thinking that this mental paradise her beloved had created was perhaps playing tricks on her mind.

The Doctor drew in a deep breath. "Fear. I didn't know if you'd be able to handle it. I'd never be able to forgive myself if…" He dropped his head, not looking into her eyes. "…if I'd caused you harm."

"You could never do that," Grace assured, pulling him into an embrace. With him close to her, she could feel the chill of his body and could no longer just dismiss it. She knew the Doctor was naturally cooler than her but this was far too cold for even him. As she thought about it, she also couldn't help but notice how pale he was.

"You're freezing," she commented, rubbing her hands up and down his back to try to bring some warmth to him. "And you're so pale."

The Doctor wrapped his arms around her, letting her warmth ease him. "Apparently, the link is stronger than I imagined. Physical sensation and attributes aren't common with this kind of communication. We shouldn't be able to touch each other or…" He stopped, not wanting to admit how he was feeling.

"Or appear or feel as we really are?" Grace filled in the blank. Seeing the Doctor gaze at her with a mixture of sadness and admiration, she breathed for a moment, tears forming in her eyes. "You really are dying."

His mouth opened slightly, plainly stunned by her words. He was about to deny them, assuring her that he was fine, but he stopped. It wouldn't have been fair to her. She'd know instantly that he was lying. The telepathic link between them prevented them from hiding much from each other, especially with them communicating as they were now.

"Yes," he admitted softly. He touched her face, memorizing the pained look there. "I'm sorry, Grace. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn't…" He sniffed slightly, gaining a little more grip on his emotions. "If I hadn't fallen in love with you…"

"You wouldn't have me there for you like I am now," Grace put it. "I won't have you kicking yourself for something that isn't your fault. It's not," she reiterated, seeing the look in his eyes. "I said 'til death do us part' and I meant it. I'm going to be here for you and I wouldn't have it any other way." She brushed his hair gently. "_Karda maha sa glenz._"

The phrase caused the Doctor to smile gently. "You've been practicing."

"I have a good teacher," Grace answered, grinning gently.

The two just looked into each other's eyes for a long moment before the Doctor's eyebrows dropped with questioning.

"What's wrong?" Grace questioned, concern growing for her husband.

"How did you know without me telling you? I mean other than I must look like death warmed over. Or at least that's what Jack keeps telling me."

She hesitated before answering, plainly uncomfortable with the question. "She told me."

"Ramses," the Doctor inferred with a vicious growl.

"No, Mayhill," she corrected.

He frowned in confusion. "Mayhill? Who is Mayhill?"

"From what I could tell, she's the one who hired Ramses to go after you," Grace told him somberly. "Doctor… she frightens me. There's something… behind her eyes." She bit her lip nervously.

The Doctor gently took her shoulders. "Has she hurt you?" he asked, worried that, despite the link between him and his wife, he wasn't able to tell if harm had come to her.

Grace shook her head slowly. "No. They've actually been treating me well. My room's… comfortable. I'm fed regularly. I have books, music, games to keep me occupied. I'm not lacking in any of the necessities." She lowered her head. "They give me everything I want."

The Doctor felt his hearts break, seeing the look in her eyes, knowing what she wasn't tell him. "Except the one thing that humans need most: companionship." He pulled her close to him, holding her tightly, his eyes closed against the realization. "Three weeks, all alone except for the occasional taunts." He felt tears escaping his eyes. "Oh, amazing Grace. Forgive me. I've left you alone for far too long. I won't leave you alone again. You call for me and I'll be there for you. I promise."

"There is nothing to forgive, darling," Grace insisted. She felt his head resting on her shoulder as if he no longer to keep it up. Brushing his hair, she noted how warm his scalp was to her touch, telling her that, in the time he'd been with her, he'd gained a fever. It was a horrid reminder that someday she would lose him to the affliction slowly ravaging his body and mind.

"How much time do we have?" she asked quietly, not really wanting to know the answer but, at the same time, desperate to know.

"Three… five years at most. If…" He swallowed, not wanting to finish the thought that ran through his mind. Still, Jack was right. She deserved the truth, not platitudes meant to reassure her only to break her heart. "If I'm able to fight off disease."

Grace held the tears at bay, willing herself to be strong for her Doctor. Five years. It wasn't long enough.

"Promise me something," she murmured into his hair.

"Anything in the universe. If I can do it, I will," the Doctor said with conviction, despite his obviously weakening condition.

"Take care of yourself before you think of taking care of me," she ordered. She sensed the Doctor was going to protest, she quickly continued. "I mean it. When we are reunited, I don't want to lose you from you wearing yourself out looking for me. I couldn't bear it." She pulled away to gaze at him lovingly. "I'm fine. You're not. Promise me, darling."

He breathed a moment before nodding slowly. "I promise I will take care of myself." Seeing the slight glare, he shook his head. "I can't put myself ahead of you, Grace. What kind of mate would I be to you if I did that? But I will take care of myself." He brushed at her hair. "_Kardii maha ma vashirez lu_," he murmured.

"What does that mean?" Grace questioned quietly.

"I swear on my hearts." He closed his eyes, unable to hide his weariness anymore.

Grace gently kissed him reassuringly. "Come back to me later. Rest for now. I'll wait for you."

A thousands thoughts on Grace's words flitted through his mind, most of them which taunted him with the chance that he might not be able to return to her or, worse, that she might not be able to be there for some awful reason. He pushed those thoughts away and focused on the one unspoken truth in her words.

"I love you," he murmured, stealing another kiss before opening his eyes…

…and seeing the ceiling of his bedroom in the TARDIS. He wondered for a moment if it had all been a dream but then he remembered what Grace had told him in the short time they were together. He remembered the feel of her in his arms and her gentle kiss… and the tears in her eyes. Plus, the mention of some woman named Mayhill…

The Doctor shivered slightly, pulling blankets over his body. He was getting tired of his fluctuating body temperatures. First cold, then warm, then cold again… it's no wonder, really, that he always felt so tired.

"Have to talk to Jack," he murmured to himself, his mind ordering him to get up and do just that. There were things that needed to be done and he couldn't do them lying in bed. Nonetheless, he felt his eyes drift closed, a gentle song gliding over his mind as he found himself rapidly falling asleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ramses didn't know what Mayhill was up to but she didn't like it. For one, it had been four weeks since they kidnapped Grace Smith and Roni was starting to wonder if she would ever have the revenge on Jack Harkness she deserved. It was bad enough that it had taken a full year for them to get this far in Mayhill's plan. Not for the first time, Roni was kicking herself for not going with her instincts and taking Jack when she had the chance. But the knocking in her head had stopped her, had convinced her that Mayhill's way was the right way. Even now as she watched Mayhill pass her in the corridor, heading for whatever she was doing in that lab of hers, she could hear them telling her to follow Mayhill, to obey her.

Thump thump thump thump, thump thump thump thump.

"When can I have him?" she demanded, ignoring the rhythm in her head, stopping Mayhill just outside of the lab's door.

"Who?" Mayhill asked, questioning in her eyes.

"Harkness! It's been four weeks! When can I have him?"

Mayhill seemed to consider the question for a moment. "When the Doctor and the Captain have finished rebuilding the TARDIS, then you can have him."

"And when will that be?" Roni pressed.

Mayhill shrugged slightly. "How should I know? The Doctor's been working on it for the last two years, from what I can tell. It could be any day now or it could be years from now. Depends on how badly damaged she was." She paused for a moment, again appearing thoughtful. "But based on what I already know about the TARDIS' condition, I'd have to say it's going to be at least another three or four years, even with Harkness' help. That is, of course, considering the Doctor's health."

Roni glared at her with fury. "You conniving little bitch! You knew about that all along! You used me!"

Mayhill returned to expression. "And you were so willing to be used. You wanted Harkness so much that you were willing to do anything to get him. Well, you will, if you are patient."

"Patient?" Roni huffed, turning to walk away. "I've been patient long enough. You want the Doctor, you're going to have to get him another way. I'm getting Harkness."

"No, you're not."

"Try and stop me," the former Time Agent called, not turning around. She was immediately stopped by two very large figures that stepped out from a perpendicular corridor. "What the hell?" She turned around to look at Mayhill, who gazed back calmly. "What the hell is going on here?"

Mayhill gestured a hand towards the massive figures. Both were obviously not human, towering over the women at seven feet tall with grayish skin and four deep purple eyes. Both were also extremely muscular.

"These are my friends, the Zhtwohi brothers," Mayhill informed Roni calmly. "They were convicted of brutally murdering a family whose head had stolen a hundred thousand credits from them. They'd ripped them apart, literally. They really value loyalty and honesty." She folded her hands together. "And I'm afraid you've angered them. You're not being loyal." She looked up at the alien brothers. "My friends, try not to make too much of a mess, please. I'd rather not be walking through a pool of blood every day." She looked at Roni with sadness in her eyes. "You really should have just listened to the drums."

Turning, she walked into the lab, hearing the agonized screams of Veronica Ramses drowning out the rip of flesh and bone. Closing the door muted the shrieks of pain, allowing Mayhill to clear her thoughts enough to focus on the work at hand, the work her beloved had ordered. The work that would bring him back to her forever.


	16. Chapter 15: The Truth Revealed

_Author's Note: Sorry this took so long to update. For some reason, this chapter was harder to write than any of the others. Took me this long just to figure out how to fit all the pieces together. Now that it is done, though, hopefully things will start coming at a much better pace. I hate writer's block!_

_Here's hoping plot bunnies eat their vegetables._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 15**

Martha sighed slightly as she leaned back in her office chair and closed her eyes. It seemed to her that, for the past five and a half months, she had been constantly on the move and the sum of all that had happened was finally starting to get to her.

It had all started when Torchwood needed UNIT's help in identifying a particularly unusual species that had come through the Rift. Naturally being UNIT's Medical Officer and foremost expert on alien life, they had sent Martha to help. It was then that Jack had asked her to help him find the Doctor to warn him about Veronica Ramses. Martha returned to UNIT HQ, spending her free time in search of the elusive Time Lord, calling the phone she had given the Doctor, making sure that the calls were immediately removed from all records.

Four months later, she'd gone back to Torchwood to help on another issue when Jack had showed up at the Hub with news of finding the Doctor. After finding Erik and Janet Holloway dead in Grace Holloway's house, though, she knew then she was going to need some extended time off. That entailed a call to UNIT HQ to Brigadier General Kramer to explain the situation – a sudden death in the family of a very close friend, she said – to request the time. Of course, she couldn't explain that she was in New York rather than Cardiff at the time; it would have only brought up more questions. However since she had been assigned to Torchwood temporarily, it was fairly easy to convince the Brigadier General to let her have a week more away from London.

Since the funeral, though, Martha had been finding herself teleporting to Cardiff to make sure that Torchwood was doing well without Jack there – she explained to the team that Jack was helping a friend cope with a great loss and with some much needed repairs - then to London to do her job with UNIT before returning to New York twice a week to see how the Doctor and Jack were doing with repairing the TARDIS. And somewhere in all of that, she still found time to be with her boyfriend Tom Milligan and to visit her family.

But even the most active person in the universe – Martha couldn't help but think of the Doctor bouncing around the TARDIS in excitement for the next adventure – suffered from physical burn out. And Martha was just about at her limit.

Opening her eyes, she once again focused on the report on her desk just as the phone rang.

"Dr. Jones," she answered, her eyes still on the papers before her.

"Good afternoon, Martha!" an enthusiastic voice told her from the other end.

"Afternoon? Are you sure, Billy?" Martha questioned, finally raising her eyes to look at the clock. She groaned slightly when she saw that it was indeed much earlier than she had thought. "I was hoping it was after five."

Dr. William Pressman chuckled slightly at her words. "Sorry to disappoint you but no such luck," he replied.

Martha couldn't help but smile at her colleague's response. "So, what exactly does R&D want from me this time?"

"Oh, it's a real humdinger this time," the American scientist told her. "You aren't going to believe this one."

"Try me."

"We got it in the post."

Martha physically froze at Billy's words. "Someone mailed us something alien, is that what you are saying?"

"Exactly." The excitement in his voice was tangible. "Even better, we're pretty sure that it's biomechanical. You've got to come take a look at this for us." He paused for a moment before realizing the way his words sounded. "Please?"

She chuckled slightly. "All right. I'm on my way. But this better not be one of your practical jokes. I'm behind on my work as it is. See you in five minutes."

"Perfect!" Billy exclaimed. "I'll have the coffee waiting."

As promised, coffee was indeed waiting when Martha arrived in the Research and Development lab one building over from where her own office was. Accepting the coffee mug from Billy, she took a sip, grimaced, and then finally spoke.

"So what exactly is it that you want me to see? Think I can identify this whatever it is for you?"

"We already know who made it," Billy answered her. "Got the results of our inquiries while you were on your way. What we don't know is what it does." He guided her over to one of the lab tables and nodded her head towards a small shiny black sphere sitting on a stand. It almost resembled a piece of Native American pottery except the etchings were definitely of extraterrestrial origin. "The alloy is definitely not of this earth so, despite it looking like something out of an art show, it's definitely alien."

Martha looked at it carefully, the etchings looking extremely familiar. "It's Time Lord, isn't it?"

"Give the young, brilliant, and beautiful alien expert a banana cream pie!" Billy teased her. "Got the ID on it from UNIT's records about an alien called the Doctor. Seems his species' written language consisted of a lot of circles and lines." He leaned forward to look at Martha's studious eyes. "So, what is it? What does it do?"

Martha gave him a slightly incredulous look. "How am I supposed to know? Isn't that your department? I'm Biology, you're R&D."

"Ah, but you're a doctor who seemed to know quite a bit about the Time Lords." His face grew awed. "You've met him, haven't you? The legendary Doctor. You know him. That's how you got this job." Seeing the glare from Martha that sentence gave him, he rephrased his words. "Not that you didn't get this job on your own merit. But he recommended you to the higher uppers, didn't he?"

"Does it matter?" Martha questioned, fight in her eyes.

Billy shook his head. "Only in that it shows how extraordinary you really must be if you have the Doctor as a reference." He gave her a smile before looking at the sphere. "Thing is, the more I look at this thing, the more I'm convinced we're not supposed to have it. Like… like trying to read your sister's diary. You keep trying to open it but you still need the stupid little key to that lock on it because you haven't yet figured out that you only need a paperclip and a little ingenuity." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Problem is… I'm out of paperclips and there's one hell of a key on this diary."

"That what you think it is?" Martha questioned. "Like a Time Lord diary?"

"Or a personal message or a letter," Billy agreed to her assessment of his words. He carefully picked it up and weighed it in his hand. "You know, when I was growing up, I never once had the inclination to read my sister's diary or my parents' letters. Well, only the letters from my dad when he was on deployment somewhere. I look at this and think, what if this is a personal letter from a father to his son? What right do we have to read it? We're not even of the same species as the person who made this."

Taking Martha's hand with his free one, he placed the sphere there gently. "I know you know where the Doctor is. Take this to him."

Martha stared at him in shock. "What?"

Billy smiled at her. "Don't give me that innocent look. You really aren't that clever in hiding your movements. CCTV caught you going into your apartment building here in London one minute and then coming out of a building at the Ronald Dahl Plaza in Cardiff a few minutes later. You obviously have a teleport and have been using it to go places. And I'd bet this all has to do with the Doctor. Who else would you go through all that for?"

"You've been spying on me?!" Martha questioned with indignation.

"I've been worried about you," Billy corrected. "That's all. Wanted to make sure you were okay. That's what friends do." He nodded to the sphere in her hands. "So, go on. Give that to the Doctor. See what he can make of it. Besides, I personally don't believe in trying to steal technology from our allies, do you?"

Martha looked at Billy for a long moment before turning her attention to the sphere in her hand. She didn't know why but she instantly felt that Bilyl was absolutely right about it. Just looking at it felt forbidden and she had an overwhelming urge to get it to the Doctor as quickly as possible.

"I'll make sure the Doctor gets it," Martha assured as she walked out of the lab, the sphere firmly in her grasp. All the while, a single thought flitted through her mind: the sooner the Doctor got this sphere, the better.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack pulled himself up from under the console, a smudge of lubricant gracing his cheek. He hated doing what both he and the Doctor agreed was a hack job on the TARDIS but he couldn't see any other alternative at the moment. There were literally hundreds of systems on the TARDIS that still needed repair but every single one of them had to be put on the backburners unless they related directly to the timeship's ability to travel through time and space precisely. The sooner they got the repairs done, the better. Jack himself didn't like that four whole weeks had passed since Grace was taken by Roni Ramses; he didn't even dare imagine how the situation was affecting the Doctor, though he'd been the brunt of his frustration time and time again since that day in the reception hall.

"Now then," he stated, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Directional locator… let's see how we did on that." Mentally, he crossed his fingers before flicking the switch that would initiate the device, without which the TARDIS could easily materialize inside a sun. The hum from the console increased in pitch exponentially until it practically screeched in the room, causing Jack to cover his ears to protect them. Then, with a piteous whine, the console sparked violently for several minutes before the ear-piercing sound and the sparks stopped abruptly. The console smoked slightly, telling of the damage done to it.

"Damn it!" Jack exclaimed, kicking the console slightly before sighing in frustration. "Two weeks of work destroyed in a flash of electricity." He sighed, leaning forward against the console. "What we need is an Army Corp of Time Lord Engineers in here. Unfortunately…" He took a breath and erected himself, running his hands through his hair. "Okay… looks like we start from scratch." He began to pull out the burnt wiring, hoping that there were enough in the gardens to replace them.

He didn't hear the inner door open but he felt the Doctor's presence as the Time Lord walked around the console to see how Jack was doing on the repairs. He winced at the sight of the slightly burned console. "That's going to take some time," he commented, quietly disturbed by the setback.

Jack again pulled himself out from under the console, this time with a handful of dead biowires. "And I was absolutely certain that I'd accounted for all the variables," Jack told him plainly. He exhaled quickly, glancing at the biowires. "I guess I must have missed something."

The Doctor gave him an understanding smile. "It took me two months to get the holmic regulator working. You're actually ahead of schedule with the repairs." His face dropped. "Instead of the TARDIS being completely repaired in another eight years, it's only going to be five."

"Well, I guess that's something," Jack replied with a large dose of disappointment in his tone.

"Took your advice and tried to contact her telepathically," the Doctor offered. "Turns out the link between us is stronger than I originally thought… and so is Grace." He closed his eyes and lowered his head, resting it against the TARDIS. "And I'm weaker than I thought," he admitted. Feeling the concern Jack was exuding, he gave a small smile. "Maintaining the link took a lot out of me."

"Then you should be in bed, resting," Jack told him bluntly, lowering himself to look into his friend's eyes. "Grace will kill me if I let you kill yourself like this."

"She is a force to be reckoned with," the Doctor admitted. He took a deep breath, determination covering his face. "But getting the TARDIS fixed and finding her is primary. I can handle the strain." He leaned forward slightly to get a better look at the problem. "Probably going to have to replace the connectors along with the biowires." He grimaced at the thought. "Not good at all, this. You don't happen to know a woman named Mayhill, do you?"

Jack took a mental step back, trying to keep track of the Doctor's thought processes. He knew the Doctor was changing the subject to avoid talking about his health but he certainly didn't expect the odd question.

"Never heard of her," he told the Time Lord.

The Doctor sighed slightly. "I was hoping you might have some information about her." He raised his eyes up to Jack's. "She has Grace." He watched Jack's eyes widened with surprise before continuing. "Apparently, your Ms. Ramses was hired by Mayhill to kidnap Grace. Grace told me."

Even as he spoke, the door opened and Martha stepped into the timeship.

"Thought you were back at UNIT HQ, catching up on work," Jack commented.

Martha walked up the ramp towards the two men. "I thought you should take a look at this," she told the Doctor, indicating the small bag in her hand. She reached into her bag and pulled out the glossy black sphere with etchings on its surface, the same that Dr. Pressman had given her only a few hours before.

Jack looked at the sphere with a frown. "What's wrong with it?" he questioned.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at his words. "What makes you think anything is wrong with it?"

Jack swallowed. "Don't know. Just got this weird feeling the minute Martha took that thing out of her bag. Like it's…"

"…forbidden," Martha finished for her. "Like we shouldn't even be looking at it."

Jack nodded in agreement. "It doesn't belong to us. It belongs…" He frowned again, taking the sphere from Martha's hand to examine it before handing it to the Doctor. "Nothing like I've seen. Doctor?" he questioned for his expertise. "Those etchings look Gallifreyan." He could almost feel his jaw drop as the sphere's etchings glowed deep orange the moment the Doctor took hold. "Well, I'd say that's a yes on it being Time Lord technology," he murmured in awe. "What is it?" he questioned, watching the Doctor's startled expression.

"I'm not sure," the Doctor admitted, examining the sphere. "Some sort of bioscanner." A moment later, the etchings flashed rapidly for several seconds before suddenly going black.

"What the hell was that all about?" Jack demanded, noting the Doctor's eyes as realization came to him.

"It's a bio-activation sphere," the Doctor concluded. "Designed to activate with a Time Lord's touch. My people developed it for the Time War but I can't recall it ever actually being put into use. They're programmed to remotely activate a pre-specified piece of Time Lord technology once specific conditions are met. "

"Why does it… feel so wrong?" Jack questioned, giving the sphere a slight glare.

"It's because you're human," the Doctor told him. "It's a telepathic warning system, prevents other species from using the technology. A defense against the Daleks using the technology against the Time Lords. It's also why Martha brought it to me. It was telling her to take it to a Time Lord. And well… I'm the only one around."

"Hello, Doctor."

The familiar voice came from the other side of the console, causing the occupants of the TARDIS to turn their heads. All three stared at the bluish holographic figure.

"Master…" the Doctor murmured, stunned by the sight of his rival and former friend. The image was as he last remembered seeing him, dressed in the black suit he had favored during his time as Harold Saxon, Prime Minister of Great Britain.

The Doctor stood slowly as the hologram continued.

"Surprised to see me? Did you miss me? You probably thought I was dead all this time. Knowing how pathetically sentimental you are, you probably even cremated my body according to the traditions of our people. And right now, I would bet you are wondering how this hologram suddenly appeared in your TARDIS. You really should realize after all these years that I always have a back-up plan."

The image folded his hands in front of him. "If you are watching this, a great many things have happened - a chain of events that led to where you are right now, namely companionless and dying."

The Doctor quickly shushed Martha and Jack, who were both stunned by what they had heard.

Master chuckled slightly. "Oh, I wish I could see your face right now. But then again, I will soon anyway so I suppose that I can wait a bit longer. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes. I was going to describe to you what happened over the past couple of years or so, let you in on my little secret." He leaned forward slightly. "I know you, Doctor. I know how you think." He tapped his temple. "You believe what you can see and touch. If an abused wife kills her husband, it _has_ to be an act of self-defense. It couldn't _possibly_ be an elaborate back-up plan. And I would bet that you are now looking at me with that pathetic confused expression, wondering what I am talking about."

He straightened himself, obviously proud. "My faithful companion Lucy. I instructed her to turn against me and to kill me if you ever got the upper hand on me. Considering that you are watching this, you must have, though how that is even possible I have no idea, and she must have obeyed me. But she knew something you didn't." He raised his right hand, pointing to the ring he wore. "This signet ring is much more than that. It's a biomatrix encephalograph. Condense, isn't it? My own design, of course. So while you were burning my body and mourning me, I was safely tucked away in this ring. Lucy retrieved it and continued to follow the instructions that I gave her, which are to first ensure my return to a more corporal existence and to watch for your return to Earth."

"Let's focus on that for a moment, shall we?" the Master stated firmly. "I have no doubt that, since you are watching this, you have destroyed my paradox machine and have rebuilt your TARDIS. And now you think everything is all hunky dory with her." He gave a small smile. "But it isn't, is it? She isn't exactly being as cooperative as she used to be, is she?"

The Doctor's features grew dark at the Master's words. "What have you done to the TARDIS?" he demanded, his own voice overlapping the beginning of the recording's next sentence.

"Let me guess. The shields don't want to stay up and she's materializing in dangerous places such as… oh, I don't know… Sigma Alpha Theta Three?" The wicked smile was back. "I put a hidden subroutine in the TARDIS' memory. She was to wait six months after the paradox machine was destroyed and then materialize in that wonderful asteroid field with the shields down. And if you happened to get out of that, which you obviously did, she was to materialize in the Earth's atmosphere and let herself drop." The image looked up and down as if he were assessing the Doctor's condition. "Well, you obviously survived that, which leads us to this point: you're trapped on Earth. Must be driving you mad not to be out there in the universe. And while you've been working on once again rebuilding your TARDIS and finding _this_ time that it's taking far too long, my faithful companion has been working towards my return.

"It was she who kidnapped your companion. And it was she who found and poisoned you with _Rassilon'it-shan_, which she found on the lost planet of the Time Lords. If you've never heard of the legend, ask handsome Jack. I'm sure he knows of it. And finally, it was dear Lucy who made sure that the bio-activation sphere reached your hands at the appropriate time, exactly one month after your faithful companion was captured, so that you could see this message. That was enough time for you to worry yourself sick about her, assuming that your companion is a human female, which it usually is. And it was enough time for you to weaken from the infection claiming you very slowly." He gave a wide grin. "I'm sure you'll find the TARDIS much more cooperative with you now. Oh, and don't blame the TARDIS for the hold-up on the repairs. She really didn't have a choice in the matter. And neither does she have a choice in what she is about to do.

"And now, Doctor, go find the lost planet of the Time Lords and find your companion. I await your presence with anticipation." The hologram again gave that manically insane smile before disappearing.

A moment later, the lighting in the TARDIS brightened and the console hummed loudly, gaining the attention of the trio. Various lights on the console flashed rapidly as the console sparked violently. The interior walls seemed to melt back into place.

"What's happening?" Martha questioned, looking around her with surprise.

"The TARDIS is healing herself," the Doctor surmised, his eyes wide. "But she doesn't have that kind of power! To heal herself this quickly would take an enormous amount of bio-energy and she's completely drained. Used to be she'd get that from the Eye of Harmony. But with that gone, she would have to find an alternate source, like the Rift in Cardiff or a Time Lord regenerating or…"

"Doctor!" Martha cried out, suddenly seeing Jack collapse to the floor. She and the Doctor hurried to him side, Martha immediately trying to help.

"Or the bio-energy of a man who cannot die," the Doctor amended darkly.

A piteous whine came from the console just as Jack screamed in agony, his body jerking violently while the Doctor and Martha watched helplessly.

The Doctor looked up at the router, fury in his eyes. "Stop this!" he ordered the TARDIS. "You're torturing him! Stop this now! I'll find another source!" he pleaded, standing to face the router. "Just stop!"

Seeing that his timeship wouldn't – or couldn't – stop her actions, he turned to look at his friend, waiting for the end to his torment. While it felt like several lifetimes, it was only mere minutes when Jack abruptly stopped completely. There was no heartbeat, no breath, no indication that he had been alive only moments before. The former Time Agent's skin was sickly white, his eyes opened and staring up at the ceiling, frozen with their startled expression.

"She killed him," Martha stated, stunned by what she had witnessed. "The TARDIS killed him!"

Shaking physically, the Doctor dropped weakly to his knees beside the lifeless body. "I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching down to close his friend's eyes. "Martha," he said quietly. "Go to the medbay and bring back a gurney. It's going to take some time for him to recover and I'd rather him be where I can keep a better eye on him."

"So, he's going to be all right," Martha supposed based on the Doctor's statement.

The Doctor nodded slightly. "The chances are good, yes. We won't know the extent of it until he wakes." He looked at her gently. "Now go get that gurney." Watching the young doctor follow his orders, he slowly stood and looked towards the router again. "An eternity yet to live and you just couldn't wait five more years," he commented darkly. "What happened?" He silenced his mind to allow himself to receive the TARDIS' feelings, translated into his mind as words and sentences.

_I tried to stop, my Doctor! I honestly tried but I couldn't. He corrupted me. A year of agony until the Immortal One freed me and even then I wasn't entirely free. I still had over two more years of enslavement to the Master, only free to be friend to you and your mate but not free to help you. I was forced to trick you, make you believe that I was more damaged than I really was. I hindered your progress in repairing me at every opportunity, though that was the last thing I wanted. The Master wouldn't let me be free until now, after I repaired myself._

_At Jack's expense_, the Doctor pointed out.

_I cannot go against what I have been programmed to do. I can only try to make it less painful. It would have been hundreds of thousands of human lives if the Immortal One had not been here. It hurt me so much to hurt him but he is only one man. Forgive me, my Doctor._

_Forgiveness is not mine to give but rather is Jack's. If he survives what you have done to him._ He felt the TARDIS' sorrow as Martha returned with the requested gurney.

Together, the Doctor and Martha took Jack to the medbay and laid him on one of the beds there. After that, there was little the two could do except wait and hope that Jack would return to them.


	17. Chapter 16: Shattered

_**Author's Note: **__Hurray! Another chapter FINALLY finished. This one was harder to write than the last! The busy season at work has hit so it makes it a bit difficult for me to get things written very quick. That and the fact that I have two other stories and a project going at the same time. __**WARNING! **__It gets very dark and twisted from here… nonconsensual sex and torture. By the way, Jack makes a comment later in this chapter… and it ISN'T what some of you might think. You'll see what I mean by it in a later chapter._

_Anyone else think that the new series just keeps getting better and better? :D_

_I'd love to have your comments about this chapter and any others you haven't commented on, especially if you have me on your watch list and you haven't left a review yet._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Chapter 16**

Lucy Saxon loved working in the lab. It wasn't that she loved the work itself. She didn't really understand most of what her hands were doing. Picking up this circuit and soldering it to that circuit. Mixing this chemical with that chemical. She knew she was intelligent but she also acknowledged that, as that press agent had said so many years ago, she wasn't that particularly bright academically. Her intelligence didn't come from books and schooling but rather from a unique view of the world, a view that had caught the attention of a certain man. A man who conquered Earth for her, who now spoke to her in her mind and guided her hands to do his bidding. That was the reason she loved working in the lab: feeling her beloved's mind next to hers, knowing without any doubts that he loved her.

Over the past few weeks, though, it was becoming harder and harder to keep hold of herself. Her beloved Harry's mind was so much stronger than hers and the more he borrowed her body to do the work needed for him to return to a physical form, the more painful it was for her when he let her go. She could feel herself weakening more and more with each instance. She didn't know how much more she could withstand his using her.

Now, as she allowed her Master to use her body again, she found herself stopping.

"What's wrong?" she asked aloud, concern in her voice. She listened to her beloved's voice in her mind before nodding. "But the Doctor…" she started to protest. After a long moment, she smiled gently. "Of course, Harry… my Master. Whatever you wish."

Turning away from the lab table, she left the room and walked through the corridors with determination until arriving in an enormous hall. She'd only been in the hall twice before, when the Master whispered in her mind that she needed help protecting herself, needed someone to act as security to not only her and the Master but also the work they would do over the next year. It was in this great hall that she had found the Zhtwohi brothers, trapped in a casket of ice and steel.

"Where shall I look, Master?" she questioned softly, gazing at the seemingly endless expanse of cryogenic capsules before her. She knew eventually many of these capsules would be empty, their occupants either free to worship the Master as their lord or dead because of their refusal to do so. But that eventuality was the least on her mind at the moment.

Closing her eyes and opening her mind, she listened to her husband's instructions and then nodded slowly. "Of course," she replied before opening her eyes and walked with confidence once more, going deeper into the cavernous room. It took ten or twelve minutes for her to arrive at her destination, at which time she started to look intensely through the windows of each capsule, looking at the faces of every convict in that section.

At one particular capsule, she suddenly stopped. "This one? Why this one?" she questioned softly. A slow smile crossed her lips at the answer she heard in her head. A moment later, she found herself inputting commands on the capsule's control panel, thus activating the resuscitation program. The occupant's breathing deepened and his eyes slowly opened, telling her that it was safe to open the capsule.

The occupant blinked for several moments, trying to get a bearing on where he was. Seeing a beautiful blond woman in front of him, he smiled slightly. "I'm free to go?" he questioned, hope in his words and in his eyes. When the woman didn't answer, his voice took on a hint of desperation. "Please… tell me…" His voice faded as horror filled his eyes. "I can't hear them. The others… they're gone. All but one…" He looked upon the woman again, knowing now that she wasn't like him. "What happened to my people?"

"Dead," she answered bluntly. "All of them. All but you and the other one you can sense. And a few who are still icicles on this planet, of course. You can't sense them because of the cryo-chambers they are incarcerated in. Your planet was destroyed in a great war by someone very close to your hearts. Your only living friend. The only one who stood up for you in front of the High Council." She smiled knowingly, watching as a look of realization grew on the man's face.

"No…" he whispered, shaking his head. "You're lying! He wouldn't… he just wouldn't! How can Gallifrey be destroyed?!"

She reached down and took his hand. "I'm here to help you," she told him, avoiding the question. "I can end your loneliness. Just like that."

He gasped tightly at the sudden pain in his head. Looking down at his hand in hers, he realized that she had put an odd ring on his finger. "What… what is…" He cried out as his head throbbed. Reaching over to his free hand, he found his attempts thwarted by her hands holding his wrists.

"I can't let you take the ring off," she stated plainly. "My husband needs a strong healthy body and yours is absolutely perfect." She looked into his eyes malevolently. "And your body will break the Doctor's hearts."

Even as Lucy spoke these words, the man dropped to his knees, madness reaching his eyes. She knew what he was hearing. The drums. The drumming driving him back to allow a new entity to take his body, his life from him. He screamed one more time as if he'd been gutted alive and visibly sank like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. A moment later, the man's head rose and a smile slowly graced his face.

"Harry?" Lucy questioned quietly.

Black eyes looked up at her from a handsome face. Slowly, the owner stood and gripped Lucy's shoulders tightly. "What did I tell you before?" the man questioned quietly. It may have been the same face of the person Lucy awakened from cryogenic incarceration, but it definitely wasn't the same man.

The assurance of who was truly before her brought a smile of relief to her face. "My Master," she murmured lovingly. The hard, possessive kiss that she received only further confirmed her supposition.

"Only one problem with this body," he finally told her, allowing her to catch her breath. Seeing the frown on her face, he clarified. "He's just a civilian." He took a deep breath. "Come, my dear. We still have work to finish before our guest arrives."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Grace walked down the halls, her escort consisting of one Zhtwohi brother in front of her and one behind her to make sure that she didn't decide to do something rash. It was the first time she been outside of her cell – at least physically – since she arrived and she wasn't sure that she liked being out of her cell. At the moment, she felt as if the cell were the safest place, wherever she was.

Even though no one had threatened her with harm, she had grown increasingly suspicious after the disappearance of Veronica Ramses two weeks ago. The Doctor had almost suddenly been under a great amount of stress that he hadn't been feeling before, leaving Grace herself on edge as she felt her husband's distress. She just knew that he wasn't taking care of himself, despite her making him promise her that he would. Not to mention that Mayhill stopped by every once in a while to her cell and just looked at her as if she were eagerly anticipating something malicious. That thought alone sent shivers down her spine.

Now as she was led into a spacious room that resembled, in her opinion, an abandoned courtroom, her suspicions increased exponentially. She didn't know why but she had a distinct feeling of déjà vu, though she knew without any doubts that she had never been in the room her entire life. As her escort left her alone, she looked around, studying the room in attempt to get an idea of where she was.

The room itself was circular, a good thirty feel in diameter. The ceiling was at least sixty feet high, making her feel small. Stained glass made up the ceiling and walls, giving the room an odd ethereal air. In the center of the room, on a platform three feet from the floor, were about a dozen ornate padded chairs laid out in a semi-circle around what she supposed was a witness box, which was set lower to the floor. Behind the witness stand was the judge's chair, set four feet above the floor, turned away from the witness box.

However, these were not the things that really caught Grace's attention. Her eyes were drawn in awe to the large circular object hanging from the ceiling just behind and above the judge's seat, its ornately intricate design so familiar to her.

"The Seal of Rassilon," she whispered softly, taking several steps towards the symbol of Time Lord authority. According to the Doctor, all that was left of Gallifrey lay inside the TARDIS. How then was it possible that this place could even exist?

"Oh, very good!" a male voice exclaimed from in front of her, startling her into taking a step back. "Very, very good, Dr. Holloway!" The judge's chair swiveled around to reveal a dark-haired man dressed in flowing robes and the oddest-looking headpiece Grace had ever seen. "Oh, but you go by Dr. Smith now, don't you?" The man stood up and walked down the stairs behind the judge's chair, allowing him to be on the same level as Grace. "You'd think the Doctor would come up with a more original name. John Smith," he said derogatorily. "I mean, every time I take on an alias, it has a bit of imagination to it at least." He stood before Grace, smiling at her knowingly. "And I must say that it is so good to see you again. It's been a lifetime. Or even two, for that matter."

Grace took several steps away from the man, getting that odd sense of déjà vu again and, this time, knowing that she didn't like the sensation at all. "Who are you?"

"Oh, Grace! I'm wounded!" the man exclaimed, covering his chest with both his hands. "Really, truly, that hurt my hearts! I mean, I know we didn't spend a lot of time together but I can certainly say that it was memorable." He tilted his head left to right for a moment. "Well, I _have_ changed since then." He took a step back and spread his arms, showing himself off to her. "So, what do you think? You know, I liked this body so much that, when I saw it in the window, I just had to have it. I even like the color of the eyes. Always was fond of black. Never had black eyes before."

"You're a Time Lord!" Grace realized, noting his words carefully.

"It's no wonder that the Doctor likes you! Smart as a whip, you are!" He dropped his arms to his side. "But I suppose you're surprised because the Doctor thinks he's the only Time Lord left. He really does keep making that mistake, doesn't he? And here I come, popping in unexpectedly again." He looked Grace over with admiration. "You know, I didn't get a really good look at you the last time. Too busy trying to steal the Doctor's body and all that. I must say the Doctor has excellent tastes when picking a human for a mate. You really are quite the looker." He raised his eyes to meet hers. "But I have my own mate so I probably shouldn't let my eyes wander without first making sure that it's okay with her. Don't want to upset the Misses, after all."

It took only a moment for the man's words to really sink into Grace's mind, causing her to slowly back away from him. "The Master," she identified, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"Very good again! No, really! Absolutely worthy of a Time Lord's mate," the Master congratulated her, watching her move slowly away from him. "Of course, you do realize that there is no way that you are leaving this room on your own so trying to run away from me is rather pointless." He looked around with a slight smile. "Like it? I think I'm going to redecorate it and make it my throne room. After all, I will be ruler of the universe and I will need a seat of power. Of course, we can't keep calling this planet Shada. After all, who would respect the New Time Lord Empire if its seat is called 'prison'?"

"What do you want from me?" Grace demanded, still moving slowly backwards, her eyes on the Master.

"Oh, I'm sure that Lucy had already answered that question," he replied, still unmoving. "In fact, I'm absolutely certain she did because I was there when she told you. Well… sort of. I was in this ring and she was wearing the ring so…" he told her, indicating the signet ring on his right hand. He raised his head slightly. "What was it that you told her, dear one?"

"That she is bait for her husband and his TARDIS." The answer came from a familiar feminine voice behind Grace, causing the latter to quickly turn around.

"Mayhill," Grace stated plainly. "For some reason, I'm not surprised."

"Actually," the Master put in, "her name is Lucy Saxon. My beloved wife and faithful companion. But you can call her Mistress." He smiled at his words. "You know, I rather like that. Master and Mistress, Master and Mistress, Master and Mistress. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He turned to his wife. "What do you think, Lucy? Want to be known as the Mistress?"

Grace spoke up before Lucy could respond to the Master's suggestion. "So I'm bait. Why bring me in this room? To gloat? You could have just come by that cell she's been keeping me in for the last six weeks."

"Oh, but this is a much better environment for old friends to reunite," the Master told her with a wide grin. "Besides… it's time to _really_ get the Doctor's attention. I do so hate waiting."

She gazed on him warily. "Meaning?"

The Master took a step forward causing Grace to take a step back into Lucy Saxon's waiting arms. The woman roughly grabbed Grace's arms and pulled them back, holding them tightly despite the struggle Grace gave.

He chuckled at her attempts to break free. "Such fire in you!" he commented. "Oh, you are going to be so much fun! Lucy and I _love_ to play!" He looked over Grace's shoulder as if to get confirmation from his wife about the statement. The smile on her face was the only thing he needed. Raising his hands to Grace's face, he delicately stroked it before letting them drop to her neck. "But we can't play if you're dressed, now, can we?" Slowly, he started unbuttoning her blouse.

Grace redoubled her struggle against Lucy's hold while, at the same time, she kicked her legs and raised her knees repeatedly in an attempt to fight back against the Master's blatant actions. She grinned victoriously when she felt her knee make hard contact with the Master, causing him to cry out briefly and step away from her. Her grin faded slightly with disappointment when she realized that the only thing she had hit was his shin.

"You little bitch! That hurt!"

"Come near me again and I'll show you hurt!" Grace exclaimed, yanking hard in another attempt to free her arms and causing Lucy's grip to slip enough that the latter had to quickly grab her again, this time wrapping her arm around Grace's neck.

"It appears that we're going to have to play rough," the Master told her darkly. He looked into Lucy's eyes and gave her a little nod.

Almost instantly, Grace felt the hold around her neck tightening, cutting off her air supply. At the same time, the Master took some time to remove the traditional Gallifreyan garb he was wearing, revealing black jeans and a white t-shirt covering his thin, tall frame. Balling his fists like a prize fighter, he walked up to Grace and proceeded to jab several hard punches into her stomach and ribs. Cries of pain tried to escape her lips as she found herself weakening quickly under the onslaught.

After what seemed like a lifetime to Grace, the attack stopped abruptly. With the hold around her neck released, she dropped to the floor, coughing with every attempt to get a full breath while desperately trying to protect her already hurt abdomen.

"When will they learn?" the Master exclaimed, shaking his head with disappointment. "I give them every opportunity to cooperate and they never do." Marching up to her, he gave her a kick into her side, causing the surgeon to scream in agony. "We tried to be gentle with you. We didn't hit you. We didn't rip off your clothing. But you? You had to struggle. And now… it's going to hurt." He crouched down so that he could grab her face with his hand and force her to look at him. He smiled, obviously pleased. "Thank you very much, Grace Smith." He looked up at Lucy, his smile widening. "Told you this was going to be fun."

Grace quickly assessed her situation. Immediately, she realized that, in her current condition, there was no way for her to escape from the room; the door was much too far away and she couldn't even crawl, much less walk. Even if she could do either, she had a feeling that the Zhtwohi brothers were just standing outside, ever vigil to be of service to their masters. She couldn't fight; she hadn't the strength to do much other than just lay there. That only left her two options, neither of which she wanted: resist or submit. Both one of those options, she knew, would result in her being hurt and she was under no delusions what that hurt would involve. She was also fairly sure her captors didn't care whether she resisted or not.

That left her only one other option. Instead of resisting physically, she could just not give them what they wanted, which was interacting with them. They wanted her to scream. Harriet Mayhill… or rather Lucy Saxon, Grace corrected herself… said as much a moment ago. Grace could use the skills that the Doctor had taught her on their wedding day only towards the opposite effect; instead of heightening her awareness of what was happening around her, she would block it off.

She took a deep shaky breath and closed her eyes, letting her mind drift inward. But before she could get any further, she felt a hard sting on her face which snapped her back to her reality.

"I don't think so, Grace," the Master taunted her. She hadn't even noticed that he had released her so that he could straddle himself over her chest. She cringed slightly as another slap struck her face. "No going into a trance. You stay with us. Right here, right now. And I'm going to make sure that you do." He took her head in his hands again, forcing her to look into his eyes.

Years ago, when Grace had first encountered the Master, he had taken the body of a paramedic. He'd spat an odd poison at Grace, which, once it had taken root in her bloodstream, had caused her to act against her will. The Doctor later explained that the Master had also, at the same time, possessed the body of a unique eel-like creature from the planet Skaro and that he had used that creature's poison to affect Grace. It was, in her opinion, the worst thing that had ever happened to her. Or so she thought at the time.

Now, as the Master's black eyes burrowed into her green ones, she found that she had been wrong in her assessment. She could feel the Master's mind breaking into hers with all the subtleties of an amateur thief breaking into a house and not caring that he'd set off the alarms. Whereas the Doctor had been gentle and loving and so very careful whenever he touched Grace with his mind, the Master ripped into her, actually relishing the agony he was causing her as he forcibly heightened every sense she had, despite her desperate attempts to stop him: sight, smell, taste, touch, sound… her mind was being overloaded with it all. Worse still, no matter how much she tried, she couldn't escape the influx of information. Even the simplest thing like unconsciousness was being denied her.

"Please… no…" she begged, her voice barely audible. To her, however, her voice almost thundered in her ears. She could hear four rapidly beating hearts, one of them with terror, the other three with excitement. And she could distinguish which heartbeat went to which person. She could hear lungs taking in air and letting it out. She could see molecules moving rapidly everywhere. She could taste the slight staleness of the air that comes from being in a building. She could smell the unique scent of her two captors, the adrenaline running through their bodies, and she could feel a burning sensation moving down her cheeks. She only just realized that the burning was caused by the salt in her own tears as the Master released her head and let her fall to the floor.

"You didn't want to experience anything," he taunted her. "Let's see how you handle experiencing everything." He brushed the tears from her cheeks almost comfortingly, causing her to whimper. "And don't worry about insanity. I won't let that happen to you. Not yet, anyway." He watched her quiver, her breathing irregular but quiet, before looking at Lucy.

"You wanted to hear her scream again?" he questioned her softly. Grinning, he ran his hands over Grace's exposed abdomen, getting a pain-filled sob in response. "Help me undress her and we can both make her scream."

The cardiologist was limp in her captors' hands as they removed every scrap of clothing from her. Each little brush against her skin brought a small whimper from her lips. She felt cool and warm hands running over every inch of her, causing tears to fall from her eyes. A long moment later, her screams echoed in the spacious hall as Mr. and Mrs. Harold Saxon abused her body in ways she didn't even want to think about. Worst of all, there was nothing she could do to fight back. Every kiss, every lustful nip on her skin was sheer agony. The sounds of fast-beating hearts, hard breathing, and lust-filled groans pounded in her head, deafening her. The scent and taste of sweat and sex turned her stomach and every little quiver of molecules in the air blinded her.

She found herself mentally condemning herself, despite the blatant fact that she had no control over what was happening to her. _I should have fought back when I could. Maybe if I cooperated when the Master told me to... Thete! Gawd, he'll never want to look at me again! Not after what Hana had done to him! I swore I'd never hurt him and look what I've done!_ She no longer could keep track of time passing but she knew the abuse had continued for a long time; it had felt like it was never going to end.

"Thete! Gawd, Thete! Help me!" she breathed, sobbing hard as she felt the last bit of her mind shatter while Lucy and the Master satisfied themselves at Grace's expense.

"Thete's abandoned you," the Master whispered into her ear, knowing that she had been calling for her husband by his academy nickname. "Time for you to go mad, Grace. Be a good girl and do that for me." Gripping her head as he had done before, he plowed into her mind for a moment before dropping her again.

Standing up, he helped his wife to her feet and held her tightly before kissing her. "That should bring him," he said smugly.

The two looked down at Grace's still form, smiling at the vacant expression on her face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It happened suddenly and without even the slightest hint of a warning. Agony like nothing he had ever felt before. The pain was so intense that it took several seconds for his body to remember how to scream. It seemed to go on for a lifetime – and he knew exactly how that felt - ripping through him, threatening to tear out his very soul. Incongruously, a comfortingly familiar sensation touched his mind at the same time, whispering regret and begging for forgiveness.

And then everything was gone. Sight, sound, smell, warmth, cold, light, touch, thought – all of it was gone. All but the never-ending darkness. This, at least, he was familiar with. Unfortunately, he was familiar with it all too well. He didn't know how many times he had died in the last one hundred seventy years or so, but he knew death intimately. And each time that he died, he hoped that he wouldn't come back to life again. Each time, his hopes were dashed into a trillion pieces. And yet, he loved life with a passion once he did come back.

In a blink of an eye, everything in his body restarted. He could smell the sterility of a hospital. He could hear a heart monitor beeping a steady rhythm. He could feel the blanket covering his naked form and the chill of his skin. He could feel the air that his lungs drew in and then exhaled at an alarmingly calm rate, considering that he hadn't breathed in a long time. The only other time he had come back to life so calmly was after Abaddon, the Son of the Beast, had fed on him, killing him only after the former had quite literally gorged himself to death. And that worried him.

The soft, comforting voice returned to his mind, the same one that had begged for forgiveness as he was dying. The voice again begged for forgiveness, as if it were the most important thing he could possibly give it. It took a long moment of lying with his eyes still closed to finally recognize the feeling, the voice in his mind.

"The TARDIS?" he questioned aloud, his mouth dry.

"Welcome back," a familiar Estuary accent greeted from just above him. "Heartbeat normal, breathing normal… bet you're thirsty, though."

Jack slowly opened his eyes, allowing them to become accustomed to the lighting in the TARDIS medical bay, which only took a second or so, before looking at the Doctor. "Sahara," he agreed with a slight smile. He attempted to sit up in the bed but found his muscles stiff.

"I'd take the moving around a bit slowly," the Doctor warned him. "You haven't moved of your own accord in a very long time. Not to worry about atrophy, though. We made sure that your muscles were given regular exercise, not that that helps the dead much." He turned to the nearby rollaway table and retrieved a lidded sipping cup with a straw in it. "Small sips," he instructed unnecessarily.

Jack obeyed the order nonetheless, gently pushing the cup away once he'd had enough. Then, carefully, he sat up, turning slowly so that his legs dangled down from the medical couch on which he had lain. "How long?" he asked.

"Approximately two weeks," the Doctor answered. "Martha and I were starting to think that maybe you weren't going to come back this time."

"Two weeks? I've been dead for two weeks?" the former Time Agent questioned incredulously.

"I'm guessing that that's a record for you." The Time Lord gave him a slight smile.

"One I never want to repeat or break, thank you very much." He retrieved the cup of water again, this time taking larger sips. "Don't remember much of how I died, though. I remember us watching that hologram of the Master and then… pain… agony… and then… nothing." He looked upon the Doctor. "What happened?"

"The Master," the Doctor told him bluntly. "He'd programmed the TARDIS to heal herself by drawing from the nearest and highest concentration of bioenergy, excluding Time Lord bioenergy. I can only guess the Master's intention was to completely wipe out life in whatever city the TARDIS had landed in, in this case New York City and surrounding communities like the Hamptons. But you were here. As such, the TARDIS found an unlimited source of bioenergy in you. In a way, you just saved New York."

Jack huffed. "Hero of the hour, then. So, the TARDIS killed me to rebuild herself," he summarized the Doctor's words.

The Time Lord grimaced slightly. "It wasn't her fault. She didn't have a choice. She can't go against programming, no matter how semi-sentient she may be." He gave Jack a sympathetic glance. "She is very sorry, Jack."

Jack didn't say anything for a long moment, feeling the TARDIS' regret in his mind. "I know," he finally said quietly. He smiled weakly, mentally accepting the apology before focusing on the Doctor. "So… just had to get me naked and under the sheets, didn't you?" he teased with a wide grin, the blanket he'd been covered with draped over the lower half of his body.

The Doctor smirked at his question. "Please, I'm a married man." He shook his head slightly. "We needed you free of encumbering clothing to ensure you didn't come back to us atrophied."

"What? No pajamas?" Jack questioned, still smiling. "No little medical gown that ties in the back and is too short to hide anything?"

The Doctor gave him a slight glare. "Anyway… just want to run a few tests to make sure you aren't worse for wear having been dead for so long." He paused. "At least we know your libido is as healthy as ever, as well as your sense of humor."

"The two most important things," Jack commented.

A moment later, the medical bay door opened and Martha came rushing in.

"You're all right!" she exclaimed, hurrying to hug him tightly. "Thank God! We thought we'd lost you!"

Jack laughed agreeably to the show of affection. "If this is the response I get from being dead for two weeks, maybe next time I should stay dead for longer. I'm thinking a 'Welcome back from the dead' party. You know… beer, music, hot tub… you in a bikini." He chuckled at the playfully indignant slap on the arm Martha gave him. "Hey, a guy can fantasize."

"Yeah, well, if you'd waited any longer, you might have woken up in a coffin," she berated him. "Just… try not to do that again."

Jack saluted her. "Yes, ma'am!" he affirmed. "Now, enough about me." He nodded slightly towards the Doctor. "What about him?"

"I'm fine," the Doctor answered before Martha could.

Jack looked at Martha, questioning the Doctor's assertion of his health.

"I haven't seen any noticeable deterioration of his condition but he hasn't let me near enough to do a thorough examination," Martha replied to the query.

"My current physical condition is irrelevant," the Doctor put in as he examined a chart – results from some tests on Jack's blood. "Examining me won't help eliminate the _Rassilon'it-shan_. It's a waste of time for both parties. And frankly, Martha, you aren't anywhere near qualified to determine what is or isn't in my best interests medically." Seeing the stunned offense on his friends' faces, he grimaced slightly. "That was a bit rude, wasn't it," he stated more than asked.

"A bit," Jack agreed with a frown.

"Sorry," the Time Lord said genuinely. "But you have to admit, Martha, that you really don't know much about Time Lord biology. And given that I actually am a Time Lord, I certainly know more about my own physical and mental condition than anyone."

Martha folded her arms, giving the Gallifreyan a hard look. "Right, then. Since that's the case, give us your detailed diagnosis, _Doctor Smith_."

Feeling the two humans waiting for him to comply, the Doctor sighed. "This is a waste of time. Very well." He lowered the chart and looked at them plainly before he started. "Slight headache caused by an increase in blood flow to the brain due to a slight increase in hearts rhythm… unusual but no cause for alarm. Decrease in REM sleep when I actually do get sleep…" He gave a weak smile. "But that's mostly due to concern for Jack's well-being."

"I'm touched," Jack commented, returning the smile.

Martha nodded slightly. "Continue," she instructed.

The Doctor frowned at her. "You're a right taskmaster," he told her but continued as ordered. "Getting more rest than is normal for me… but really most of that is spent… " He swallowed slightly. "Well… engaged in… Well… being with Grace. And I do get tired easily but that's to be expected with a weak immune system. Overall, I'd say my health isn't ideal but neither is it cause for concern."

"Honestly?" Martha pressed.

He looked into her eyes firmly. "Honestly. Just a little tired. It's only been six weeks, Martha. Jack," he said, including the latter because of the concern in his eyes. "I still have at least a few years. Stop hovering over me as if I could fall over any moment."

Martha nodded slightly. "You're right," she conceded. "We worry about you, that's all. That's what friends do."

"And you can't stop us from doing that," Jack added.

The Time Lord smiled at his friends. "Thank you. Really. But I'm not made of glass." He took a deep breath and focused on Jack. "Anyway, you're as fit as any human can be so you can get up and get dressed."

Jack gave a brief nod. "Clothes?" he questioned. Seeing the Doctor point to a box on the other side of the medical bay, he stood up and, without concern about his undress – and causing Martha to turn her head slightly to avoid looking at him, walked over to the box. Pulling the clothes out of the box, he dressed quickly as he spoke.

"So what do we do about the Master? He has Grace."

The Doctor was quiet for a long moment, seeming to be seriously thinking about Jack's question. "Well, while you were recuperating, I finished repairs on the TARDIS. She's ready for anything. Well, almost anything. Which means you and Martha are going back to England." He gave them each a look. "Back to your lives."

Jack shook his head. "Uh-uh," he stated plainly. "No way am I just up and leaving you alone on this."

"Me neither," Martha affirmed. "You said so yourself that you get weak easily. How are you going to handle the Master in your weakened condition?"

"It's not like I can't take care of myself!" the Doctor protested. "Besides, I have to do this alone."

"Why?" Jack demanded quietly, putting his hands on his hips.

The Doctor gave him a glare. "Because I know the Master. I know how he thinks." He paused for a moment. "I know what he wants."

"And that is?" the head of Torchwood pressed.

The Doctor straightened slightly. "A new body to inhabit." Seeing the confusion on their faces, he sighed and started out the door of the infirmary as he spoke. "The Master died on the Valiant. We all were witness to that. And he's right; I cremated his body."

"So, obviously he's going to use that encephalographic biomatrix to inhabit a new body," Jack concluded, following the Doctor with Martha on his own heels.

"Yes. But without the body of a Time Lord, he won't have the ability to regenerate," the Doctor explained. "Which means, without me, he'll be forced to go from one body to another, like he did after he used up all of his own lives. A lot of people are going to die just so he can live."

"All the more reason for us to go with you to rescue Grace," Jack argued. "He could easily take your body in your condition."

"I can't risk him getting hold of you, Jack," the Doctor commented firmly. "The Master in a body that can't die? Not a good thing."

"Then I'll be careful," he replied to his friend's concerns.

The Doctor stopped abruptly in the doorway to the console room, a pained expression on his face. "No," he whispered, the word seeming to have been pulled forcefully from him.

"What? You don't think I'm capable of being careful?" Jack questioned. "Okay, my team and I do tend to get in a few snags but…" His voice faded when he almost walked into the Doctor's still form. Putting up an arm, he stopped Martha in her path, keeping his eyes on the Time Lord.

"Doctor?" he asked with concern.

The Gallifreyan turned his head, tears trickling down his face. At that moment, every bit of his twelve hundred years shone in his dark eyes. Those chocolate orbs held the pain that came from one thing that Jack and Martha both understood all too well. It was the pain that came from helplessness. Jack had a gut feeling about the cause.

"What's happened?" he questioned softly.

The Doctor sniffed, not minding the salty wet streaks that adorned his face. "He's torturing her," he whispered tightly. "Such horrible agony. Everything burns. Even the air around us, it all burns." He sobbed noticeably, sliding down the doorframe to the floor. "He's raping her," he rasped through his tears, trying hard not to completely breakdown in front of his friends. "Oh, Grace. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't stop him."

Martha watched in stunned silence, covering her mouth with her hand to ward off her own tears. "He can actually feel what she's feeling right at this moment?" she questioned, stunned and anguished by the nature of it all.

Jack slowly crouched in front of the Doctor. "A Time Lord's telepathic link with his mate can be very strong," he told her over his shoulder. "I should know. Had my own personal experience with it." He reached over and touched the Doctor's shoulder. "Doctor, we need you to focus. You're the only one who knows how to get to Shada. You've been there before. You said so yourself. And the Master told us that he was hiding out there." He took a breath. "We can't save Grace if you don't focus." His blue eyes softened with sympathy. "I'm sorry. But in order to help her, right now, you've got to block her out."

"She'll think I abandoned her," the Doctor protested, hurt pouring from his every expression.

"You can prove her wrong when we get her out of that bastard's hands," Jack told him forcefully.

The Time Lord took a shaky breath and slowly exhaled, nodding slightly at the Captain's words. Closing his eyes, he swallowed tightly before taking another breath, this time deeply and firmly. Opening his eyes again, he slowly stood, wiping his face quickly as he did so.

"You okay?" Martha questioned, touching his arm gently.

The Doctor gave her a weak smile. "No, but that's irrelevant at the moment." He strode to the console and immediately started inputting coordinates that he hadn't used in centuries.

"So, how are you going to stop him? Knowing you, you don't even have a plan," Jack pointed out. "You're just going to walk into a potentially dangerous situation without even the slightest idea how to get out of it."

"I'll think of something," the Time Lord murmured. "Time to leave, both of you," he ordered, raising his voice with command.

"Not a chance," Martha contradicted, crossing her arms. "I'm your doctor, Doctor. You're not going anywhere without me. Besides, you just said that Grace is hurt. She may need me."

"And you're certainly not going anywhere without me," Jack told him emphatically, pointing at him. "You may know the Master inside and out from centuries of being at odds with him but we still have Veronica Ramses to deal with. I'm the expert when it comes to her. If the Master and she are collaborating like we are supposing, we're talking about some serious trouble."

The Doctor sighed with frustration. "Jack… Martha…" he started to protest.

Jack crossed his arms, imitating Martha's stance almost exactly. If it weren't for the seriousness of the situation, the Doctor might have laughed at the sight. "Very well," he finally relented. "But you follow my orders to the letter." Without waiting for a reply, he pulled a lever, sending the TARDIS into the Vortex.


	18. Chapter 17: Shada

Chapter 17 _Author's Note: __Sorry it took so long to update. It's been a very crazy summer this year. Busy practically all the time! But I finally got past that pesky writer's block and had the time to finish this chapter. HOORAH!_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Chapter 17**

Grace let her mind wander in her meditations, knowing where such meanderings would lead. Opening her eyes slowly, she smiled gently at the oddly realistic sensations her beloved's mind was creating for them. She could smell the salt water in the air as she found herself looking towards a purple ocean reflecting a pale pink sky. The sand under her bare feet was chocolate brown in color, the waves wetting it and making it look almost black.

Closing her eyes once again, she took a deep breath, spreading her arms wide to allow the breeze to lick at her bare body. Even as she did this, she felt firm hands run over her back and around her torso, pulling her into a hug from behind.

"It's beautiful," she said as she gazed out over the purple waves that rolled up to the brown sand.

"Another place I wanted to show you," the Doctor answered softly in her ear.

"You still can," Grace told him gently, turning around to face him. "When we are together again."

"And yet, meantime…" the Doctor started, cupping her face.

His wife shushed him gently. "Just be glad that we can be with each other like this." Leaning forward, she delicately kissed him, accepting his stronger kiss in return.

She ran her hands over his back longingly, stopping to make small traces over and around the mole between his shoulder blades. The Doctor's hands, in return gently ran down the length of her torso, teasing her with nips at her shoulders and neck.

"Interesting," he said against her skin, obviously deeply fascinated.

"What is?" she whispered, gasping at the feeling of exhilaration that crept from the small areas where he touched to her loins, making her want his attentions all the more.

"I didn't know about the mole," he answered.

She frowned slightly at his words. "Mole? I don't have a mole, my love."

"No, but apparently, I do. Between the shoulder blades. You've been playing with it."

She pulled away slightly, her excitement from his touch giving way to growing concern. "Of course, you have a mole, Thete. You've always had the mole during this regeneration. You told me so yourself." She looked into his eyes. "I thought you liked me playing with it."

"Oh, I love it!" the Doctor told her. "It's marvelous! But there's only one little problem."

Grace felt her anxiety rising exponentially. "What's wrong?"

"Well…" the Time Lord started, tilting his head from side to side. "The nickname from the Academy… Theta Sigma? It isn't mine." Seeing the frown on her face, he clarified, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "I'm not Thete."

The attack was sudden and brutal. A strong hand squeezed around Grace's wrist tightly as the other slapped her hard across her face, sending her falling to the sand. A moment later, a tall figure held her down forcibly, pressing his lips hard against hers before biting them, causing blood to seep from them.

"Thete! Stop! What are you doing?" she screamed, struggling desperately against him.

"Aw, come on, amazing Grace! We're just having a bit of fun!" he answered, clearly undisturbed by the effect his actions were having on her. He punched her hard, subduing her for a long moment, long enough to bite hard on her sensitive breast as he forced himself into her, causing a scream of pain. Reaching up with one hand, he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked it back. With his free hand, he punched her in time with his hard thrusts, switching hands when he felt the need to strike on the opposite side of her body.

She screamed in pain, trying hard to fight the onslaught but finding the strength of her attacker to be too much for her. He seemed absolutely determined to make her life a living hell on that beautiful beach, grabbing handfuls of sand and forcing them into her face, deliberately ranking his nails over her body and biting her so that she would bleed. She could swear one of her ribs had been broken. The pain never seemed to stop.

Finally, he apparently had had his fill of sexual satisfaction at her expense and pulled out of her. She slowly curled into a ball, soaking the chocolate sand with her tears.

"Why, Doctor?" she whispered, not daring to speak his nickname. "Why?"

The Doctor stood over her, a hard look on his face. "Because you deserved it, you little whore." He kicked her brutally in the stomach, causing her to cry out in pain. "Get your breath. I'm not done with you yet."

Grace Smith lay on her side, curled into a fetal position, crying and screaming. The cot below her caught her tears as she begged for her husband to stop his assault upon her, a never-ending assault that was completely and totally in her shattered mind.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The blue police box faded in and out before becoming solid with a singular mechanical thud. A minute later, a tall man with brown hair and brown eyes, wearing a blue pinstriped suit and a brown longcoat, stepped from the box, closing the door behind him. He looked at his surroundings with apprehension, as if just waiting for something extraordinarily bad to happen.

It had taken the entire journey to this isolated planet for the Doctor to convince his friends of the validity of the plan he had come up with. As it was, he barely got out of the TARDIS alone, Jack continually insisting that the Doctor at least allow Martha to go with him.

"She's needed here," the Time Lord insisted. "And you have your own part to play."

Now, standing outside of the TARDIS in the open, he shuddered slightly, his head aching enough for him to wince. Running a hand through his already unruly hair, he took a breath through his nose and again examined his current environment.

The TARDIS had landed in a wide hallway that stretched seemingly endlessly in two directions. The Doctor frowned slightly, certain that, wherever they had landed, it wasn't in an area of Shada that he had been before. He had only be to Shada twice. Once was to save the universe from a madman named Skagra who was bent on procuring the power of Salyavin, an extremely dangerous Time Lord criminal, one who ironically was not only one of the Doctor's childhood heroes – for his rebellious nature – but also had become an old friend later in life – Salyavin's life, not the Doctor's. The second incident had him as a witness for the defense in a murder trial. Despite his testimony, the defendant had been found guilty and sentenced to eternal imprisonment on the cryo-prison. The Doctor seriously doubted the man he had stood up for in trial was still alive. The Time Lords had taken even convicted criminals to fight during the Time War. As it was, the distant memories of Shada didn't help him to figure out which direction to take.

"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe," he murmured to himself before turning to the right and walking the length of the hallway to wherever it might lead him. One way or the other, he knew he would find himself at his true destination. He just hoped that he found that destination within the allotted timeframe he had given himself.

It was with mixed emotions that, five minutes into his walk, he found himself face to face with two very large, very muscular beings with four purple eyes and gray skin.

"Hello," the Doctor greeted with a wide smile. "You're both Pzathorglawians, aren't you? I've never been to your planet but I hear it's lovely in the winter time."

"You are the one who calls himself the Doctor?" one of the Pzathorglawians asked in a raspy baritone voice.

The Time Lord grinned widely, tucking his hands into his trouser pockets. "Yes, I am. I'm assuming you were expecting me."

"Your lord and master awaits your presence," the other large creature informed him bluntly.

"Does he now?" the Doctor replied with a glower. "If you are referring to _the_ Master, he is neither my lord nor my master. However, I very much want a word with him." He gestured towards the two Pzathorglawians. "Lead the way."

One of the creatures started in one direction whereas the other waited until the Doctor started walking before taking up the rear. The three proceeded through the ancient halls at a steady pace. As they walked, the Doctor couldn't help feeling a sad nostalgia, seeing the ornately decorated corridors that so plainly spoke of the long-dead planet to which Shada had once had ties. The memories of his home planet of Gallifrey, with its orange sky, silver trees, and red plains, brought the moisture of unshed tears to the Doctor's brown eyes.

The memories were quickly pushed away as the small group approached a great door, which the Pzathorglawians pushed open, encouraging the Doctor to step in. With a brief glance behind him, the Gallifreyan obeyed the silent entreat.

With a slow deep breath, the Doctor took in his surroundings carefully. Almost immediately, he recognized the towering colored crystal walls and ceiling, the grandeur of the room designed to intimidate prisoners and witnesses alike. He was once again reminded of the only other time he had been in this room so many centuries ago. The room had been altered, however, from what he had remembered. Gone were the chairs that once seated the members of the court. The seat of the Inquisitor was moved to the far side of the circular room, the stairs leading to it now in the front instead of behind. The seat of the Valeyard – though the name of the esteemed position (the word did, after all, mean "learned court prosecutor") would forever hold a different meaning for the Doctor since his own trial four regenerations before - was also moved to the far side of the room, right beside the Inquisitor's seat. The Valeyard's chair was elevated to the same height as the Inquisitor's. The entire room, once a courtroom, now had a regal feel to it, the finishing touches of fine silks and weaponry on display only enhancing the effect.

The Doctor took several steps into the former courtroom, stopping in the center, ironically in the exact spot where he had been a witness so long ago.

"A bit ostentatious, isn't it? I mean, even for you," he stated bluntly, facing the thrones – as they obviously were now. "Then again, I am speaking to a man who designed and built an aerial aircraft carrier to look upon his very short-lived term as absolute ruler of the Earth. In comparison, redecorating a courtroom and turning it into a throne room is rather mundane."

"I was wondering when you would get here, Doctor," the Master's sonorous voice drifted down from the thrones. "Did you get lost in the time vortex?"

The Doctor stiffened slightly at the voice. _Impossible_, he thought, defying what had to be his own mind playing games with him. "I see that you found a body to use," he said, ignoring the feeling that tingled in the back of his mind. "I'm assuming that it is a temporary solution to your problem. After all, it must be extremely inconvenient moving from body to body every hundred years or so. That is, of course, if you've taken a human form. Which brings up the question of which unfortunate soul you murdered to take your present body and how long it will be before you try to take mine."

The Master laughed, his chair still turned away from the Doctor. "Now, why would I want your diseased body when I have a perfectly healthy body right now, one that with the proper care will last me several thousand years?" Sensing the confusion that flitted through his nemesis, he chuckled again, turning in his chair to face him.

"That's impossible," the Doctor whispered, staring up at the all too familiar face.

Slowly, the Master stood, resplendent in the white and pearled gown of the High Inquisitor of the High Council of Gallifrey. He smiled widely, spreading his arms. "What do you think of my choice? Like it? Hate it?" He dropped his arms, his face turning serious. "Love him?" he added, his tone low, his black eyes burrowing into the Doctor's brown.

"He was killed," the latter continued to deny what his eyes were telling him, what his ears had been telling him the first moment the Master spoke. "In the Time War. He was killed along with the others. Even the convicted fought and died."

"Because the Council needed soldiers to fight their war, pulling every criminal from their cryo-chambers, offering them all pardons in exchange for their services to Gallifrey," the Master continued the Doctor's train of thought. "Or so you believed," he corrected the assumption. "Apparently, he missed the pardon bus. Not really much of a surprise. From what I could tell, thanks to the records here, the Council was actually concerned that, given how vehemently you defended him, you might stage a jailbreak. So they had him transferred to the alien sector, where you wouldn't be able to find him." He clicked his tongue. "Unfortunate for you but extremely fortuitous for me that I found him before you and that his cryo-chamber was still functional after all this time." He skipped down the stairs as he spoke, finishing his last sentence face to face with the Doctor.

"He's just a civilian," the Doctor told him, trying to hide the desperation creeping into his voice. "You won't be able to regenerate with him. But if you transfer into me…"

The Master rolled his eyes. "Oh, please! You're infected with _Rassilon'it-shan_! Do you really think you are ever going to regenerate again? You are going to die, Doctor, which is a much better fate than that of your wife." He grinned as the Doctor stiffened at his words.

"What have you done to her? Where is she? I demand to see her immediately!"

"You mean, you don't know? Some husband you are, ignoring your own wife. But I suppose you did what you had to do to get here sane." He paused considering. "How's the headache? Must be a killer with your blocking her from your mind, leaving her to face her ordeal alone."

"Stop it," the Doctor ordered, glaring at him.

"Oh, and she was so good! The way she cried and screamed…"

"I said, stop it!"

The Master looked into the Doctor's eyes, grinning manically. "Must really hurt, knowing that your wife, the woman you love with all your hearts, was raped and tortured by a man in the body of, until very recently, your only living child." He watched with pleasure as the Doctor briefly closed his eyes against the pain in his hearts. "If she's pregnant because of me, does that make you a father and a grandfather at the same time?"

It was one taunt too many. The Doctor rushed the Master, fury on his face… and quickly found himself on the floor, his whole body stinging from contact with an energy barrier.

"I made a lot of changes in the last few months," the Master informed him. "Moved the furniture, changed the drapes…" he continued, pointing to the thrones and the silks that decorated the room. "Added an energy barrier to keep my 'guests' where I wish them to stay. I even added a few toys to keep Lucy and me amused. You really should see dear Lucy now. Ooo, hot! Especially when she was on Grace."

The Doctor stood slowly, a dangerous look on his face. He forced himself not to allow his fury to get the best of him as the Master continued.

"Of course, there really wasn't much else to entertain ourselves with while we waited for you to show. A few little projects here and there. You did take an awful long time to get here. Then again, that probably had more to do with my programming the TARDIS to delay your finding Shada than it had to do with your driving an antiquated Type 40 TT time capsule. But still… your wife is kidnapped and you don't even show up to rescue her for four whole months?"

"Four months." The stunned prisoner repeated, his expressive face telling of the pain that the revelation brought him. Even by his calculations, considering all the thwarted attempts to repair the TARDIS, the Master's taunting message, the TARDIS repairing herself, and Jack's two weeks dead, it had been two months since he last saw Grace. And here the Master was telling him that it had been four months on Shada. "You had the TARDIS land two months after take off instead of immediately."

"Well, I did need the extra time. Or I should say that I had a feeling I would need the extra time, since I actually put the program in place during my, as you put it, 'short-lived term as absolute ruler of the Earth'. So, we have had Grace as our guest for four months. Of course, you'd know this already if you didn't continue to block her pain from your mind."

"Where is she?" the Doctor demanded again. "Take me to her."

"Not quite yet," the Master replied with a shake of his head. "See, you've been a neglectful husband, in my opinion. And in my new rule, that is a very serious offense. As such, you deserve to be punished." He crossed his arms. "Undress."

The Doctor blinked at his words. "Sorry?" he questioned, confused by the order.

"It's a very nice suit, Doctor. And an absolutely beautiful coat. I really would hate for anything to ruin them. Now, if you would please undress. At least take off the suit and go bare-chested. If it's any consolation, I am going to remain completely clothed," he commented as he slowly took off the ceremonial robe, handing it to Lucy, who seemed to appear from out of nowhere during their conversation.

The Doctor didn't move.

The Master sighed. "The sooner we get this done, Doctor, the sooner you will be with your amazing Grace. Isn't that what you want?"

The Doctor looked upon the Master for a long moment, a thousand thoughts swirling in his mind on what he wanted, the top thing being Grace's safety. If enduring whatever the Master had in his twisted mind was going to help him to rescue Grace, he would do it. Slowly, he removed his longcoat, folding it carefully. As he did so, he noted Lucy Saxon placing a small metal chest just outside of the energy barrier as her husband, now in black jeans and a black t-shirt, observed the Doctor's progress. A few moments later, the Doctor put the last piece of his suit on the top of the neat pile he had built near the chest, though the energy barrier still stood between the objects.

The Master looked over the Doctor briefly, noticing the look of interest on Lucy's face at the sight of the Time Lord dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts. She continued to admire the sight while the Master shifted the energy barrier closer to the Doctor, allowing Lucy to collect the Doctor's clothing and put them in the chest before carrying it away.

"Blimey, you're skinny," the Master commented at last with a slight shake of his head.

"You should talk," the Doctor retaliated in a dull voice.

The Master glanced down at his body. "It is a bit thin, isn't it? But I like it." He nodded slightly to his wife, who silently walked over to the thrones and climbed the stairs to the chair that once belonged to the Valeyard. Taking a seat, she pressed a couple of buttons that were in the armrests of the chair, causing two long narrow metallic pillars to come up on either side of the Doctor. A small door opened on each pillar, revealing cuffs attached to thick cables.

The Master smiled to the Doctor. "Secure yourself, please."

The Doctor got an exasperated expression on his face. "You have got to be kidding."

The Master's eyes again focused on the Doctor's. "It's either you cooperate or I take out your punishment on someone else. But I think one month of imprisonment all alone and three months of entertaining Lucy and me are quite enough for your amazing Grace, don't you? I wouldn't mind it myself but… I honestly don't know how much more she could take."

"What have you done to her?"

"Drop your mental barriers and find out for yourself. But first… secure yourself."

"You don't have to do this," the Doctor told him, already getting an idea of what the Master had in store for him. "You don't have to hurt people. Do you still hear the drums?"

It was a mistake. The Master took a step towards him, fury on his face. "Either you secure yourself now or I will have Grace brought in and she will take your place!"

Reaching up over his head, the Doctor pulled one of the cuffs down and wrapped it around his wrist before doing the same with the other. "I can help you, Master. I can make the drums stop. But you have to let me help." A press of a button on Lucy's chair caused the cables to retract suddenly, bringing both of the Doctor's arms up to stretch him into the shape of a 'Y'. He winced at the tightness in his shoulders and arms.

The Master took several steps forward to be nose to nose with the Doctor, assured that the energy barrier was now lowered. "I like them," he told the Doctor bluntly. "The drums give me focus. And your son had such a disciplined mind. It was easy to use him to quiet them to a much more tolerable level. Pity he used his brilliance to murder a young woman. Ironic that you would have one son who became such as upstanding member of the great Time Lord race, and the other who became such a mockery of everything you believe in."

"He was innocent," the Doctor told him vehemently. "The evidence was completely circumstantial and they threw him to the wolves because he wasn't a Time Lord or pure-blood, covering up the crimes of one of their own."

"So you say," the Master countered, walking over to the display of weaponry. "The words of a desperate father trying to save his child. Too bad for him that you failed." He pulled down a cat-o-nine-tails, causing the Doctor to take an involuntary gasp. The Master chuckled at the quick intake of air. "You didn't think I was going to tickle you, did you?" he questioned, walking back towards him. "I'm so glad you are being cooperative, even if it is for the sake of your beloved. I do hate a ruckus in my throne room. Now, blood, on the other hand…" He shook out the whip, his black eyes shining with anticipation. "I'm rather fond of a little color."

Raising the whip, he lashed out, leaving nine long tears in the Doctor's chest. He sighed in obvious delight as the Doctor's screams reached his ears, watching his opponent twisting in his restraints. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!" he exclaimed, grinning manically towards Lucy, who watched from her throne, a slight smile on her face.

"You don't have to do this," the Doctor gasped, repeating his plea. "Let me help you."

The Master walked around the restrained man so that he was a few feet from his back. "Always trying to save everyone, even when they don't want saving," he commented with a shake of his head. He struck the Doctor, ripping wounds into his back. Another scream escaped his victim's lips as the Master strode around to the front again.

Over and over, the ruler of Shada repeated the pattern, whipping first the chest and then the back of Humanity's Defender as the latter struggled against the pain. Occasionally, he lashed out at his arms and legs, causing his victim to lose his balance temporarily. However, the more pain the Doctor endured, the more difficult it became to keep his mind closed off from Grace's. Abruptly, he felt his mental defenses drop, instantly exposing him to the thoughts and feelings of his beloved wife as well as the Master and his betrothed. Tears trickled down his cheeks as a sob escaped his broken body, no longer able to fight against the vicious onslaught of the Master and his whip. His legs, which had struggled to maintain his balance during the ordeal, slipped from under him one last time, wrenching his arms violently with the restraints being the only thing to keep him from the floor.

_Oh, Grace_. _I'm so sorry. I never should have blocked you out when you needed me_, he thought miserably. _"Kardajarno! Ma sa meriham, kardatare!_" he cried out, not realizing he had spoken his plea aloud.

"Oh, listen to that, Lucy dear," the Master mocked the Doctor. "The prisoner begs for forgiveness." He stepped up to the bleeding man, lowering himself to look into his eyes. "You abandoned her, Doctor. Why should she forgive you?" The Doctor didn't reply to the Master's goading, exhausted from the torture he'd endured. The Master, in response, struck him sadistically, noting how the Doctor's head snapped to the side with the strike. "You will speak to me when I speak to you, Doctor," he ordered threateningly.

The wounded man slowly raised his eyes to the Master's, physical pain and emotional anguish fighting for dominance on his face. "What would you have me say?" he questioned weakly. He could feel a trickle of blood trailing down his cheek, the result of a stray lash meant for his shoulder. It was an oddly comforting sensation, the feel of his own blood trickling down his body, warming him even as he shivered from cold and pain. He couldn't fight the Master grabbing his head by his short spiky hair to gaze upon his fatigued expression.

"You know, because of the _Rassilon'it-shan_, you won't heal from your wounds," he reminded the Doctor. "You will continue to slowly bleed to death."

"You need me for something or I would be dead already," the Doctor whispered tightly.

Standing, the Master gestured over his shoulder, knowing that his partner would know the order that came with the wave of his hand. Lucy released the tension on the cables with a press of a button, causing their prisoner to drop to the floor into a small pool of his own blood.

The Master gave him a slight smile, looking down at the motionless man. "You're right. I do. As you've already correctly surmised, it was originally to have your body to inhabit. Then I found your precious child so I don't need you for that anymore." He took a deep breath. "But you are also right in that this body won't regenerate as it is. Well, nor will yours even after I cure it of _Rassilon'it-shan_. Now, though, I can run a few tests… with you and your beloved wife as my guinea pigs."

"Leave her alone," came the barely audible response. "Leave her alone," he repeated. A moment later, he slipped into blessed unconsciousness, unable to withstand another moment of the torture the Master had inflicted on him.

The Master sighed with a shake of his head. "Pity," he murmured. Turning towards his queen, he asked. "How long?"

Lucy raised her left arm to look at the watch on her wrist. "Thirty-seven minutes."

"That long?" He huffed slightly. "I would've thought he would have lasted longer. Then again, he isn't exactly in top physical condition." He motioned her down from her throne. "Have this cleaned up and the Doctor taken to my lab. Can't have my main test subject die before I can use him." When she was standing beside him, he gave her a passionate kiss. "The bedroom in one hour?" he questioned.

"Oh, I'll be there," she assured him, returning a kiss. She watched as he walked from the throne room, grinning at the way he moved.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A soft moan filled the Doctor's ears, bringing him back to the land of wakefulness. A second later, he realized that the pained sound had actually come from his own lips, the proof coming in the form of another moan as he attempted to sit up from his prone position. Failing in that attempt, he allowed himself just lay where he was for the moment, using his senses to assess his situation.

The first thing he recognized was pain covering his entire body. A glance down the length his thin frame showed his torso had been wrapped with bandages, a hint of blood peeking through the gauze. The sight of the blood and the weariness that seemed to come from deep inside him, plus the undeniable pain, reminded him instantly of what he had just endured. Given the length of time that had passed since the Master tortured him – two hours, seventeen minutes, and twenty-four seconds, his sense of time told him – by all the laws of physics, he should have bled to death. Which, by process of elimination, meant only one thing: the Master had cured him of the poison that had previously meant a death sentence for him. The Doctor sighed with relief at the realization that he now had a chance of a life with the woman he loved, even if it was as a civilian Gallifreyan rather than as a Time Lord.

The thought of Grace put him in instant motion, his telepathic link to her telling him that she was close. Ignoring the agony he was causing himself, he rolled to his side to help him get up off of the floor. He found that he was in a small barren room, a set of bars making up one wall, solid concrete making up the rest. On the opposite side of where he stood close to the bars was a small cot, a small feminine form laying motionless on it. Having no doubts as to who the woman was, he immediately went to her side.

"Grace," he called to her lovingly. Reaching to her face to cup, he startled at her abrupt reaction to his touch.

"No," she whimpered, pulling away. "Please, no." A terrified sob escaped her lips. "Stop."

"Grace," he tried again, this time succeeding in touching her tormented face. "_Ushazte maha_."

Grace's eyes snapped open, staring at him as if it were the first time she had ever seen his face. Scrambling backwards, she wretched herself from his touch. "Stay away from me!" she shouted at him.

His hearts sank with trepidation and worry. "Grace, it's me…" he started. "Your husband. The Doctor. Thete." Instead of comforting her, he saw that his words had only made her more frightened. His moving slightly towards her caused her to scream and cower away from him. "Oh, Grace," he whispered, fearful for her. "_Grace laharni maha_. What has he done to you?" He clearly remembered what he had felt from Grace before when the Master had blatantly raped her. Yet, he also knew that there was far more done to her that physical harm. He carefully shifted so that he was as close to her as he dared get. Holding out his hands so that she could see them, he spoke very softly. "Grace, let me see what he's done. I promise I won't hurt you."

"Keep away from me, you bastard!" she yelled at him, pushing herself as far away from him as she physically could. If she could have pushed herself through the wall and into the next room, she would have, so intent she was to keep the distance between her and the Doctor as open as possible.

The Doctor stared at her for a long moment, his concern for her mounting towards complete panic. He could feel her hatred and fear as if it were his own. But feeling her emotions didn't help him figure out what was running through her mind. Did she even know he was in the room with her? Could she even hear him? Or was her reactions based solely on what she was seeing in her mind?

"Grace, can you hear me? Do you know me?" When she didn't answer, he took a shaky breath. "Please talk to me. Let me help you, _kardatare maha_." Seeing her turn her head to glare at him, he moved ever so slightly closer to her, the emotions he was feeling from her mixing with what he knew. His wife had been physically and mentally raped by his worst enemy and yet, for some reason, she feared her own husband.

"Let me see," he said gently to her, feeling her terror ripping at his soul. "It's okay. I promise. I know right now that doesn't mean anything to you. But I swear on my mother's heart I won't hurt you. I just want to see." Sitting besides her quivering form, he raised his hands to her head.

"No!" she whispered in fear. "No, please…" She sobbed as the Doctor's fingers touched her face, his eyes closing in concentration.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself in utter darkness. Attempting to look around, he frowned. The black seemed to go on for eternity with nothing to give the Gallifreyan a sense of how large or small the room was, an odd feeling for a being who could tell you exactly the size of any room, dark or not, by just stepping into it. Oddest of all, despite the darkness, he could see his own body covered in his favorite brown pinstriped suit. Logic told him that it was impossible for him to see his own hand, since there was absolutely no source of light anywhere.

"Hello?" he called out carefully, turning around in a circle in the hopes of finding something… anything… that would tell him where he was. A name filtered into his mind, the name of the one person he so desperately wanted to hold. "Grace?"

"She doesn't want you here. You are hurting her," an elegant voice said from behind him, causing him to turn around quickly.

In front of him was a man of average height with long slightly curly hair, radiant blue eyes, and a stern mouth. He was smartly dressed in a white shirt, cravat, vest, and frock coat, looking very much as if he had just stepped out of New York City in the late 19th century, despite his accent being decidedly British.

_Liverpool_, the Doctor decided immediately, looking over the man carefully. _And very familiar_, he added to himself. He didn't know why he didn't see it before but it was suddenly very obvious. "You're me," the Doctor replied to the man's brusque words. "In my eighth life. When I first met Grace. You're an accidental distillation of me, caused by the unusual circumstances around my regeneration."

The other Doctor just gave a slight nod to his words. "A mere echo of the man you were then and the man you are now. You transferred me into Grace's mind when you kissed her that last time in San Francisco. A gift to a woman for whom you had strong feelings, a gift that strengthened the telepathic link you now share. Since that kiss in San Francisco, I've been silently protecting her." He paused to look into the Doctor's eyes. "You are hurting her," he repeated.

The Doctor gave his previous self a glower. "How am I hurting her? The Master raped her and you let him in," he accused.

"She let him in," Eight told him clearly.

"What does that mean?" Ten questioned with a frown. "Why would she let the Master in?"

The distillation looked upon his father of a sort with sadness. "You really don't know, do you? You blocked her out to protect yourself from her pain."

The Doctor swallowed guiltily at his words. "I did what I had to do to find her. But I'm here now and I want to know her pain."

"You are hurting her. She doesn't want you here," Eight told him emphatically for a third time.

"She needs me here," Ten countered, determination on his face. "And you haven't told me how it is that I am hurting her. I'm not forcing my way into her mind. It's open."

"Doorways are not closed if there are no doors."

"Meaning the Master removed her mental defenses completely?"

The other Doctor gave him a sad smile. "If he had, I would not be here." He turned his head towards an ornate mahogany door that appeared a few feet to his right. "Your answers are through that door," he informed him. "But I wouldn't go in there, if I were you. You may not come out sane."

The Doctor frowned as he looked at the door. "Why? What's on the other side?"

"The universe," came the answer. "Life and death. Pain and pleasure. Light and darkness. Everything and nothing. But she does not want you here. You are hurting her."

"So you've said," the Doctor replied. "It still doesn't answer my questions. Why doesn't she want me here? How am I hurting her? What has the Master done to her? Why did she let the Master into her mind?"

Eight raised his head slightly. "Not all weapons destroy matter. And I have no more answers for you."

"You gave me no answers at all, only more questions."

The distillation gave him a sad smile. "It is all that I have. I only know what Grace knows." He turned his head again towards the door. "Your answers are through there. I will not stop you from going in."

The Doctor took several steps to the door, putting his hand on the doorknob. Looking back, he noticed that his previous self had disappeared, leaving him alone in the impossible blackness. With a sniff, he leaned his ear against the door, trying to hear whatever was on the other side. There was nothing but silence. Turning the doorknob, he pushed open the door… and stepped into madness.

That was the only description the Doctor could put on what he was experiencing, his eyes closed against the onslaught. His mind flooded with a hundred thousand sensations, none of them his own, all of them happening at the same time. His previous self's words ran through what little of his mind wasn't being overwhelmed by the madness. _'The universe. Life and death. Pain and pleasure. Light and darkness. Everything and nothing.'_ It was an apt description, the Time Lord decided as he tried to regain a sense of control in his mind. He squinted at the brightness and darkness of the flames and ice around him, the intense heat and cold seeping through his clothes to his skin, not quite superseding the itchiness of the soft cloth. His ears burned from the quiet and the noise that rattled his head. His mind tried to make sense of the contradictions that he saw and felt but couldn't. He more felt than heard the sob that escaped his lips as he forced himself to refocus his mind to shut out everything he was feeling, everything that wasn't directly related to him.

Slowly, the chaos disappeared, the Doctor's own breathing helping him to block out just enough of what Grace was experiencing to retain his own sanity while, at the same time, being able to see what was affecting his beloved's mind. The result was that he still could feel the overwhelming sensations but it was more like watching it from a distance, like a sympathetic observer.

Opening his eyes at last, he exhaled slowly as he looked around. The walls of the room he found himself in seemed to be on fire and yet they could easily be touched without causing any burning. He was surrounding by doors, each one painted black save the one he had just come through, which still maintained its mahogany appearance. But, unlike the mahogany door, a cacophony of sounds seeped from the black doors, every sound heavy with suffering.

_Oh, Rassilon! They're memories!_ the Doctor realized with sharp pangs in his hearts. _Every door is hiding a memory of the Master's treatment of her. And each memory is seeping through the doors, tormenting her._ He looked around the room filled with flames. _Burning her._ But the revelation didn't help him to figure out how he himself was hurting her. And yet, the distillation of himself – the guard at the door of these memories – assured him that he would find the answers here.

"I'm going to have to go in through one of these doors," the Time Lord concluded, "Go into her memories… her _cowboys_… without her permission." He didn't like the idea of violating his wife's mental privacy in such a way but he was getting the distinct impression that Grace was no longer capable of giving informed consent to what kind of sandwich to buy her at the local deli much less permission to see her memories.

"Oh, Grace… What has he done to you?" he questioned for the second time that day, feeling a tear trickle down his cheek. Swallowing tightly, he stepped towards one of the doors before him and gently opened it, being careful not to upset the delicate balance that was Grace's already fragile mind.

Without stepping through the door, he suddenly found himself standing in a familiar garden, the scent of flowers filling him, calming him. He closed his eyes and sighed softly, not even wondering why his voice seemed so feminine. He felt a masculine arm wrap around his torso from behind, causing him to smile.

"I wondered when you would get here," he said involuntarily, this time noting that his voice was definitely feminine and very familiar.

"I had trouble concentrating tonight," an equally familiar masculine voice told him.

Deep concern caused the Doctor's brow to furrow. "The sickness," he stated as if it were obvious the reason for the man's troubles. The Doctor felt the man nod into his shoulder-length hair. Slowly, the Time Lord turned to look into the man's brown eyes, sympathy pouring from his own. "I'm so sorry that I'm not there to help you." He only realized a millisecond later that he was looking into his own eyes and that he, the Doctor, was seeing this memory through Grace's eyes. His actions, his words were all what Grace had done before in the same circumstances. And yet, he honestly could not remember this particular situation happening in his mother's garden, the place he now recognized.

"Oh, but you do help me, Grace," his doppelganger told him. "You help me in so many ways. Just like you are going to help me now."

"What can I do?" the Doctor questioned, feeling his wife's genuine need to help.

He watched his doppelganger's eyes grow dark, a malicious smile creeping into his face. "You can scream for me," he replied.

A moment later, the Doctor felt strong hands grabbing his throat, tightening slowly. The Time Lord felt himself struggle against the attack even as he was pushed down to the ground, his legs spread open violently with a knee.

"Thete! Please! No!" he yelled, putting up his hands to try to fight off his attacker.

"You know the rules by now, Grace. I play nice-nice. You forgive me. I hurt you," the doppelganger told him, letting go of his throat to punch him hard. He laughed cruelly at the expression his victim wore. "This is going to be so much fun!" He turned his head and looked up at a shadowy figure that seemed to move menacing closer. "Isn't it, dear?"

The Doctor screamed in pain, feeling every sensation that his beloved had endured again and again. The locations changed in rapid succession as he remembered the rapes for his wife. The majestic redwood forests of Earth, the chocolate beaches of Padola, the red grasslands of Gallifrey… he couldn't keep track of all the beautiful venues used against Grace as she was repeatedly and violently sexually abused. And yet he knew, without any doubts whatsoever, that most of them weren't completely in her mind. They were imposed on her as she was physically abused. And then the agonizing burning had returned with a vengeance. Every cell in his body shrieked for mercy from the contradictory pain and pleasure.

The Doctor gasped, his eyes opening wide as he suddenly broke mental contact with Grace. Stumbling away from her and falling to the floor, he panted in an attempt to subdue the terror that filled him. The rational part of him told him that it had been dangerous to break contact so quickly. But emotional part was too stunned by what he had experienced in Grace's mind to do anything other than react. It took a full two minutes before his mind coped with the shock the only way that it could.

"He made you think I did this to you," he whispered softly, his hearts hurting from the realization. The emotional pain clear on his face, he turned slightly so that his gaze focused on the wall across from him, Grace's presence just in his peripheral vision. "He made you hate me."

Pulling his legs up against his chest and wrapping his long arms around his knees, the Doctor sobbed harshly, burying his face against his bent legs, his hearts breaking with the realization that the woman who held his hearts, his universe, was quite insane.


	19. Chapter 18: Endowment

_Sorry this is coming to you so late. Once again, real life has come in the way, making it difficult to find the time to write, especially when I am working on a joint project. But with my job slipping into the "slow" season, it should become easier and easier to find the time to work on this story. Not to mention this chapter has been the hardest to write of all of them. I mean, where do you go after having the Doctor captured and Grace mentally unstable? You will soon find out! :D_

**Chapter 18**

The Doctor's tears had dried after a long while, leading to a brief sense of panic – how was he going to help Grace if she hated him so? – which in turn led to a critical assessment of the situation. It was becoming increasingly obvious to him that he had to help Grace personally, despite her distrust of him and his lack of psychological training. He only had two other options: either convince the Master to undo the damage he had done to Grace's mind or institutionalize her. The Doctor wasn't especially fond of any of his options. He couldn't trust the Master to not make her condition worse and the idea of putting Grace into a mental hospital ripped at his hearts. Neither did he want to personally hurt Grace to help her but it didn't look like he had much of a choice.

Even as he resolved himself to his future actions, his mind suddenly felt another presence in the cell. Looking around the room, he noted Grace sitting on the cot on the far side of the room, an expression of sheer exhaustion playing on her face. Other than Grace and himself, there didn't appear to be anyone else in the cell. And yet, his mind was telling him that there definitely was another being with them.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and cleared his mind, letting it extend to his surroundings. Ah, there it was! A heartbeat. Steady, strong, rhythmic and so very tiny. And a small fragile mind, calling out in a simple way, begging for comfort and frightened that it couldn't find any. The Doctor found himself turning his head towards the presence and opening his eyes, his own hearts tightening when he realized he was looking directly at Grace.

"She's pregnant," he realized, his face showing a mixture of emotions at the revelation. He noticed the ever so gentle roundness of her belly against the gown she was wearing, her own clothes having been ruined by the Master and his wife when they first abused her.

He ran his hand through his hair, his mind running at a thousand miles per hour. While he was ecstatic that his wife was pregnant, he was deeply concerned. Again, he was presented with two possibilities. The child Grace carried was either his… or the Master's. With the taunting the Master had given him earlier, it was obvious now that he had already known about Grace's pregnancy. But it wouldn't surprise the Doctor in the least if he was playing word games when it came to the paternity of the child. Touching the child's mind showed the Doctor that, if the child were full Gallifreyan, he or she would be between one or two months along in development. But with the child being half-human – regardless of who the father really was - he or she could be much older. The Doctor himself remembered his mother telling him that he had finally touched her mind three months into his own development. But his mother had been perfectly healthy and sane when he had touched her the first time. What kind of impact would touching the mind of an insane and physically damaged woman have on the little soul growing in Grace's womb?

Slowly, the Doctor found his feet again and approached Grace, causing the woman to shrink away from him.

"It's okay," he murmured gently as he sat on the cot with her. "It's okay."

"Don't hurt me," she pleaded, causing the Time Lord's hearts to shatter.

"I never did hurt you, _kardatare maha_. Never," he told her gently. "But I know who did. And I know what he's made you see. It's all a lie, Grace. Everything that you remember of those rapes…" He nearly choked on the word, the sound of it bringing the reality of the situation into full focus. "They happened, yes. But it wasn't me. It was never me." Seeing her shake her head and cringe in denial of his words – and most likely at the demons in her mind, the Doctor felt tears once again drip from his eyes. "Oh, Grace," he breathed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But it looks as if I am going to have to harm you in order to help you." He reached up to touch her face, swallowing tightly when she gasped in terror. "Please forgive me."

The sound of metal banging against metal told the Doctor that someone had entered the confinement zone. Removing his hand from Grace's face, he mentally thanked Rassilon that his efforts had been interrupted, not wanting to have to cause his wife any more distress than she had already gone through. He noted the tall figure appearing on the other side of the bars, a smug look on his face.

"Give her back," the Doctor demanded in a low voice, hoping that, somehow, the Master would do so without harming her.

The door to the cell slowly opened, allowing the Master to step in, one of the Zhtwohi brothers standing just behind him, ready to defend him if necessary. The Pzathorglawian regarded the Doctor carefully as the Master chuckled slightly at his words.

"She's right there beside you," he replied, gesturing towards Grace with a flourish. "You wanted to be with your wife. I obliged."

The Doctor turned his head, regarding the megalomaniac darkly. "She may be here physically but, mentally… you took my wife from me," he replied. Turning to look at Grace, he swallowed tightly at the terrified expression on her face as she looked on the Master. He wondered what she was seeing, what she was thinking at that moment. Did she even know who was in the room with her?

Standing to face his nemesis, he demanded, "I want her back. Give her back."

"I don't think she wants to be given back to you. After all, you're the one that raped her. Well, at least, that's what she remembers." He smiled widely at him. "Interesting little predicament, isn't it? You come all the way to Shada to rescue your wife… and she hates you. I seriously doubt that she will let you near her ever again. In which case…" He seemed to ponder the issue for a moment. "You won't be able to help her," he finished the statement as if it were a sudden revelation to himself. He gave a wicked grin. "Not without doing the very thing you are being accused of already having done, namely forcing yourself on her." He took a deep breath. "It doesn't really matter, though, whether or not you do help her, especially since neither of you are leaving Shada. Ever." He looked at the Doctor for a long moment. "Well? Aren't you going to thank me?"

"What for?"

The Master huffed at the question. "For saving your life. I could have let you bleed to death on the floor of the throne room. But I didn't. In fact, I personally bandaged your wounds and administered _Rassilon'it-vashire _to you."

The Doctor glared at him for a moment. "Thank you. Why?" he questioned.

A laugh escaped the Master's lips. "Why?" he repeated, surprise in his voice. "I save your life and you ask why?"

"Oh, come on, Master," the Doctor told him, frustration starting to show in his face and voice. "We both know you don't show mercy unless it's in your own best interests. So, why did you save my life? Something about using Grace and me as guinea pigs."

The latter smiled at him. "Well, I really couldn't possibly test it on myself or on sweet Lucy. It would be far too dangerous."

"Test what?"

The Master took a deep breath, tucking his hands into his trouser pockets. "The Endowment Chamber."

The Doctor looked upon him, a stunned expression on his face. "The Endowment Chamber was in the Citadel. It burned with Gallifrey."

"Which is why I built one," came the response. "It took me years to design, months to build. But with my dear Lucy's help…"

"That's impossible," the Doctor stated bluntly. "You can't build an Endowment Chamber. The Endowment Chamber was grown by Rassilon himself as a gift to his people. No one knew exactly how it worked."

"But I do know how it worked," the Master contradicted. He gave him a grin. "And I have you and Grace to thank for that." Seeing the confusion on the Doctor's face, he clarified. "The Eye of Harmony. My body was destroyed but my mind continued, trapped in an eternity. I saw not only all of time and space but also the heart of it all. Being resurrected by the Time Lords was torture. I didn't want to leave that paradise, that hell. But being a mere mortal didn't take away the knowledge that I gained from the Eye. Thus, the ability to build an Endowment Chamber."

"But it's _impossible_," the Doctor repeated emphatically. "You can't _build_ an Endowment Chamber! That's like trying to build a TARDIS. It was tried before and the capsules were far too dangerous. This Endowment Chamber of yours won't work."

"I know the risks, Doctor, which is why you and Grace are going to test it before Lucy and I ever take a step into it. Just in case something does go wrong."

The Doctor took a step towards him, determination filling his eyes. "You are not using Grace to test that thing. I won't let you."

"You don't have a choice, Doctor," the Master informed him. "Besides, deep down you know that you want to step into a working Endowment Chamber and regain what you've lost four months ago. You want to be a Time Lord once again. And that is also why you are going to examine the Endowment Chamber before it is tested. After all, I know you don't want you and your lovely bride to suffer some nasty side effect I might not have accounted for. A second opinion is usually a good thing, don't you think?"

He paused, watching the Doctor turn to look at his wife, her horrified expression eerie in the dimly-lit cell. "I know what you are wanting, Doctor. You want her free to leave Shada. I'm afraid there are only two vessels on Shada at the moment. One of them is the TARDIS, which I cannot allow to slip from my possession. The other is the time ship of a former associate of my wife's. I seriously doubt that Grace would be able to pilot the ship from here all the way to Earth. Besides, do you know how far away Earth is? It would take at least eight months to get there in that ship, even if it were in good condition. That's a very long way to go all alone. Especially while pregnant."

Seeing the frown on the Doctor's face as he turned back towards him, the Master continued. "If you really are demanding her freedom, I suppose we could program the ship to auto-pilot to Earth. Assuming the child she is carrying actually survives the cross-species integration and doesn't come out some kind of freak of nature, and assuming she survives giving birth all on her own, I'm sure that the people of Earth will find a way to bring her to the ground… one way or the other." He grinned broadly at his own words, knowing that the Doctor knew the meaning behind them. "Of course, there is another option. You can cooperate and insure that the Endowment Chamber works, thus preventing you and your wife from becoming Gallifreyan and Human soup."

The Doctor's dark eyes looked into the Master's, showing quite plainly that he was thinking hard on all that the Master had said. After a long moment, he finally turned away, his eyes returning to his wife.

"You leave me very little choice other than to comply," the Doctor answered.

The Master clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "Excellent! I'll have your clothes brought to you…" He paused for a moment, a frown touching his lips. "Speaking of which, I did take the liberty of emptying your pockets and I found something… or rather I didn't find something… quite peculiar. No sonic screwdriver. And I already know that you are fond of the arcane device in this incarnation. So, where is it?"

"It's in the TARDIS. Left it there for some repairs which I never got around to," the Doctor replied, meeting his eyes. "Is that all? Worried about a little sonic screwdriver, are you? A harmless little tool?"

"In your hands, Doctor, nothing is harmless," the latter emphasized before turning towards the cell door.

The Doctor waited silently for the Master and his guard to leave the confinement zone. Once finally alone with Grace once again, he turned towards her. His eyes widened and he abruptly stopped in his tracks at the expression on her face.

"Oh, gawd," she whispered tightly. Her eyes darted in every direction, as if on the look out for imminent danger. "Ohgawdohgawdohgawd!" The two words had become an indistinct mantra as she rocked slowly on the cot.

The Doctor slowly dropped to his knees in front of her. A part of him thrilled when she didn't pull away from him but rather looked at him square in the eyes.

"You remember," he realized quietly.

"He raped me," she sobbed softly.

"Yes," came the somber, heartfelt reply.

"He made me think it was you."

"I know."

"How could I… how could…" she started. She took two shallow, pained breaths, the confusion on her face tangible. "Doctor… It hurts! Everything hurts!" Seeing the Time Lord reach to touch her, she pulled back quickly. "Don't touch me!" she screamed at him.

The Gallifreyan dropped his hand at her words. Mentally, he reviewed what he had seen in her mind and internally cringed at his inadvertently causing her harm whenever he touched her, whenever he spoke. He knew his presence was physically torturous to her. And yet somehow, when the Master appeared only minutes before, she was able to listen to their conversation and realize the truth her subconscious was always trying to tell her, a subconscious that, when the Doctor went through her mind, appeared to him as his eighth incarnation.

"You are so strong," he whispered in awe so quietly that his voice was almost inaudible.

"No… I'm not," she contradicted between sharp sobs. "I believed it. I believed it all."

"Not completely," he corrected gently. "You fought in your own way. And you realizing the lies he's put in your head is proof of that. You are the strongest woman I have ever met. You really are amazing, Grace."

She shook her head in slight denail before raising her eyes to him. A horrified gasp came from her lips as she saw him - really saw him - for the first time since he had come into the cell with her. "Thete, you're hurt!" she cried out, reaching to touch the bloodied bandage around his chest. He winced slightly at the pressure she put on the still healing wounds.

"It's nothing," the Doctor assured her, taking her hand gently to pull it away from his chest. "Nothing time won't heal."

The sound of metal against metal caused Grace to scream in fright. The Doctor turned towards the sound to see Lucy Saxon and a Pzathorglawian – the Doctor was beginning to wonder if there were more than two of those running around at the Master's bidding – carrying the chest he'd seen Lucy place his clothing in.

Opening the cell door, she had the guard put the chest just inside before closing the door.

"Get dressed, Doctor. Your lord and master awaits you and your wife." She grinned mischievously. "And so do I."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jack Harkness paced. There really was very little else that he could do while he waited as instructed. Why the Doctor told him to wait three hours was beyond him, though he supposed that it was probably so that the Doctor would have enough time to find Grace and to implement a rescue. Still, it was the longest three hours Jack could remember and he was extremely grateful when he was able to don his great coat and head out the door, Martha's entreats that he be careful in his head.

He found himself in a large cupboard as he stepped out, the TARDIS having been moved since the Doctor had left it, just as the Time Lord had told his companions was likely to happen. Hopefully, the Doctor was also right about where the time ship had been moved. If everything worked as it should, Jack would be able to finish his task quickly without being noticed.

Giving the TARDIS a slight pat, he tried the door to the cupboard, finding it locked. Reaching into his coat, he pulled a familiar silver cylinder, made a few adjustments to it, and aimed it at the door's lock. He'd wondered when the Doctor gave the sonic screwdriver, but the Gallifreyan had insisted that Jack would need it more than he did.

The former Time Agent grinned at the sound of the lock turning and tucked the screwdriver into his coat once again. "I've definitely got to get one for myself," he said quietly, opening the door a crack and looking out to make sure that there were no surprises waiting for him on the other side. Seeing nothing, he stepped out and started down the narrow corridor, hoping that he wasn't as lost as he felt.

Looking at the various symbols on the walls, Jack briefly wondered why the TARDIS translated all known languages except Gallifreyan. Perhaps it was a testament to the Time Lords' secretive and isolationist mentality. Or perhaps the language was far too complicated to be properly translated into English. Whatever the reason, Jack was grateful that the Doctor showed him what symbols to look for to lead him to his destination.

The problem with the Gallifreyan written language was that it took an extremely complex mind to be able to tell the differences between one symbol and another. That being the case, it took longer than Jack had anticipated finding the right direction to get to his destination. But once he got his bearings, it became much easier to move through the myriad of corridors on the prison planet.

Turning a corner, he grimaced at the sight and stench that assaulted him. The body – or rather the separated body parts - indicated that the person had been dead for at least a couple of months. The automatic sanitation protocols in the prison complex had kept the corpse in a state of slow decay, allowing it to be identifiable even with its grotesque features. Tuffs of blonde hair tinged with the brown-red color of long-dried blood poked out of the skull which laid about a foot from the torso, legs and arms. This person had obviously been ripped apart – literally – by something extraordinarily strong. As mangled as the body was, Jack identified it quickly.

"Oh, Roni," Jack murmured sadly, swallowing down the queasiness of his stomach. "I'm sorry."

Even as he spoke, his eye caught sight of two things. The first was a vortex manipulator – his vortex manipulator, he realized as he remembered the switch he had made before - still attached to the wrist that was once attached to an arm. Cringing internally from his own actions, he quickly removed the manipulator, tucking it into his coat pocket. He then picked up a small box, putting it in the same pocket as the manipulator.

Slowly standing, he looked over the body somberly. "Sorry I can't give you a proper funeral. But the Master will pay for this. I promise." He and Veronica Ramses had had their ins and outs. But nothing of what he knew of the woman warranted the death she had so obviously endured.

Taking a breath, he turned from the body of his former partner and lover, and headed on towards his objective, which was only another two corridors away. Slipping through the door, he looked around and smiled slightly.

"This is more like it," he commented to himself as he walked to a console and looked over the buttons, switches and knobs as well as the readouts before him. "Question now is… it's more like what?" he muttered as he noted, once again, that all the labels and readouts were in the pictorial written language of the Time Lords.

With a deep breath, he shook the cynicism from his mind. After all, he reasoned, the Doctor wouldn't have sent him to do this if he didn't know he could, despite the obvious language barrier. _Besides_, he told himself, _you were able to set up extrapolator shielding on the TARDIS. And that's a far more complicated operation than what you have to do now._

Sighing, he quickly glanced at his watch. According to the Doctor's plan, he only had forty-five minutes to get the operation done.

"Piece of cake," he told him, trying to maintain a positive attitude. "Just like any other machine. Access and act," he ordered himself.

A pause and a breath later, Jack started to carefully turn knobs, flick switches and pull biowires from under the console in front of him just as the Doctor had instructed, acting on instinct at times when things didn't seem to go as it should, slowly moving towards his goal.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor, now dressed in his blue suit and brown greatcoat, followed Lucy Saxon through the corridors of Shada, guiding Grace with loving care as they walked. An occasional whimper escaped her lips as they walked, making the Doctor wonder what this journey was doing to her fragile psyche. She technically was still quite insane, her mind wandering almost constantly with only a few moments of clarity, like the one she'd had in the cell when she realized what the Master had done to her. It still was plainly obvious that she didn't understand anything, most of the time, but the intense pain she constantly felt. It had taken quite a bit of coaxing on his part to get Grace to allow him to guide her, knowing full well that his touch would be agony to her. Even so, she bore the pain remarkably, even allowing him to hold her close to his body. He didn't say a word to her out of deference to her state of mind.

While he kept one eye on where they were going, he also noted the way they came, determined to take Grace and run the moment he found an opportunity. However, he knew that opportunity would be hard coming with the Pzathorglawian following diligently to a large lab. The doors opened automatically, allowing the group to enter.

Feeling his wife pushing away from him, the Doctor released her and watched as she shakily found a corner to hide in, closing her eyes and covering her ears to try to block to sudden sensory input the lab was giving her. Her sobs told how the gentle hum in the room sounded more like a jackhammer running right next to her.

The Doctor took a step towards her to comfort her. However, his actions were immediately interrupted with loud, joyous voice coming from the other side of the room, causing Grace to withdraw further into herself.

"A memorable day!" the Master exclaimed as he breezed into the room. Going over to Lucy, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her possessively before turning towards the Doctor. "Today, the Time Lords shall rise again. And this time, not even you can stop me."

The Doctor turned towards the Master, giving him a malicious glare. "This isn't about the return of our people. It's about you ruling the universe."

"Isn't that the same thing?" the Master countered with a grin. "No?" he questioned, seeing that the Doctor's expression hadn't changed. "Well… I can see that my enthusiasm about the future isn't shared with my own kind. But at least it is shared by my wife." He looked into Lucy's eyes, receiving a smile in return.

"How very lovely for you," the Doctor commented dryly. "Let's just get on with this."

"A bit anxious to make scientific history, are we?" the Master taunted. "Go on, then. Inspect it. Make sure it won't turn you into Gallifreyan soup."

The Doctor ignored the Master's tone as he walked over to the large machine that took up most of the lab, which was considerable in size. The machine itself was eerily similar to the Lazarus Machine, a device the Doctor had encountered before. That machine had caused the scientist who had created it to transform into a hideous creature. Of course, if it hadn't been for Dr. Richard Lazarus' experiments, the Doctor doubted that the Master would have been able to make his Endowment Chamber. He knew the Master's experiments, using Lazarus' technology, made subjects younger or older, depending on the settings inputted into his own laser screwdriver, which now lay safely tucked away in the TARDIS. The Doctor himself had been the victim of such technology. But taking that technology and the knowledge of the Eye of Harmony and creating a functioning Endowment Chamber? Well, that was something entirely different.

Slowly moving around the machine, he examined it closely. Already he could see where Lazarus' technology was used and how the Master had made the necessary compensations to prevent the subject's DNA from continuous change – the error that had caused Dr. Lazarus' downfall. He could also see Chameleon Arch technology integrated into the machine, meaning that a subject could change their species all together, just as both the Master and the Doctor had done to protect themselves.

"Well," the Doctor commented as he finished his circuit around the device. "You can make yourself younger and you can turn Mrs. Saxon into a Gallifreyan. But I don't see how you are going to regain the ability to regenerate." He looked at the machine with admiration he couldn't hide. "It is a beautiful piece of technology." He looked at the Master pointedly. "But it isn't an Endowment Chamber."

The Master strolled up to the device, a knowing grin on his face. "Ah, but you haven't looked everywhere, Doctor," he told him. Leaning against the machine, he gazed into his nemesis' eyes. "You forgot to look under the bonnet." He knocked on a steel hatch on the machine.

Lucy tossed a pair of protective goggles to her husband, putting on a pair herself before the Master opened the hatch. A blinding white light filled the room, causing the Doctor to raise his hand to shield his eyes while Grace screamed, turning towards the corner she was in for defense against the onslaught. The light continued for a good ten seconds before the Master closed the hatch and yanked off his goggles.

"So? What do you think now?" he questioned while the Doctor blinked his eyes, trying to quickly regain his sight.

"That's artron energy," the Doctor replied, stunned by the revelation. "Well… a stable mixture of artron and huon energy, at any rate. Where'd you find it?" He rolled his eyes at his own thickness. "The cryo-cells. Of course. You pulled the power source from them." His eyes grew dark. "Which means anyone who was in a cryo-cell when you pulled that power source…"

"…is dead. Yes," the Master finished for him. "What are you so concerned about? It was only three or four hundred criminals. Of course, I made sure anyone of any real value received an early parole from their life sentence."

"They were alive. You murdered them," growled the Doctor.

"They were popsicles!" countered the Master. "The Time Lords were the murderers, leaving them here on an abandoned cryo-prison for the rest of eternity. Or at least until the cryo-cells died. I did them a favor."

The two Gallifreyans glared into each other's eyes, apparently intent on wearing the other out in their staring contest. The contest ended abruptly with the Master speaking.

"Will my Endowment Chamber work, in your opinion?"

The Doctor blinked and took a step back, allowing the matter of the morality of the Master's actions to pass for the moment. "Possibly," he admitted. "It's still far too dangerous. It could kill anyone who goes in there."

"Oh, I've already considered that possibility. I ran several tests before and adjusted the settings on the chamber to allow for a variety of species." The Master grinned widely at his own words.

"Using the inmates here you felt were 'of any real value' as your test subjects, of course," the Doctor concluded with disgust.

"Well, lab rats aren't exactly abundant here and they wouldn't have worked to my specifications even if they were. Non-sentient, you know. Much better to gauge results with a subject who understands what is happening to them. Now I just need to make sure that all my calibrations will definitely work on a Gallifreyan and a Human, the only two species available to me that I haven't tested yet. So…" He gestured towards the device. "After you."

The Doctor stood unmoving at the Master's words. He knew that it was quite likely that dozens of people died from the Master's experimentation on them, but that was the least of his worries. Shada would just be the start if the Endowment Chamber worked with any species, as the Master obviously was trying to achieve. The whole universe would be converted into Time Lords and those that couldn't or wouldn't be converted would be killed or enslaved. And while the Doctor wanted his people to rise again, this wasn't the way. The Master's idea reeked of totalitarianism and excessive xenophobia. In other words, it sounded like something the Daleks and the Cybermen would have come up with if they worked together. What was worse, there was a strong possibility of his plan actually working. There were many people of all species who would gladly take up near immortality, to become as close to godhood as was possible for a corporeal being. And they would very likely embrace the Master as their savior, allowing him to rule over them. After all, what was the loss of some freedom in comparison to living hundreds of thousands of years?

Seeing that the Doctor wasn't obeying him, the Master sighed. "You're not being very cooperative, Doctor. I thought we had an agreement. You make sure that the Endowment Chamber works and I spare Grace from spending the last moments of her life alone in a ship orbiting above Earth, if she is lucky the ship gets that far." He gave him a dark look. "You know I will do it, Doctor. So, what will it be? A dead wife and child? Or someone you can spend the rest of your lives with?"

Taking a slow breath, the Doctor looked back towards Grace, who was watching the interaction between the Doctor and the Master. Noting her wide eyes, the Doctor realized she was having another moment of mental clarity at that moment and that she knew exactly what was happening. He looked deep into those eyes, even with the distance between him and her, and projected a single thought to her.

_I love you._

"Thete," she whispered, a tear of worry escaping. _I love you, too_, she thought, knowing that her husband could easily read her mind.

"Oh, hurry up!" the Master exclaimed with impatience. "You'd think you were going to the other side of the universe the way you two are staring at each other. Get in the chamber now or I'll fulfill my threat against your wife. Last chance."

The Doctor turned his head towards the Master, giving him a hard look before slowly walking into the Endowment Chamber. The door was closed and latched behind him, preventing him from exiting without it being opened from the outside. He observed the steel interior with interest, despite also having a good dose of fear running through his veins.

A few seconds later, the lighting in the cab brightened exponentially as a high sonic whine filled the room, growing louder as the illumination grew brighter. The Doctor shut his eyes tightly and covered his ears as then cacophony of sound and light assaulted him, causing him to fall to his knees.

Outside, the device whirled rapidly as the three beings in the lab turned their heads slightly to avoid the brightness coming from it. Several long seconds passed before an agonized scream escaped from the chamber. The tortured wail filled the room for almost a full minute and then was suddenly silent as the chamber powered down.


	20. A Brief Note concerning Chapter 18

A Brief Note

I had a reader who pointed out a couple of things in the last chapter that needed clarifying.

One: Yes, the Doctor is still badly injured from the Master's beating, even though he doesn't seem to act like it. I added a couple of sentence to Chapter 18 to reaffirm that.

Two: Yes, the Endowment Chamber creates Time Lords. Since the Doctor cannot regenerate and cannot see all of time and space anymore, he is no longer a Time Lord, only a civilian Gallifreyan. The same with the Master since he stole the body of a civilian Gallifreyan.

I will have Chapter 19 up as soon as possible. Real life gets in the way. :)

Calavicci9


	21. Chapter 19: The Best Laid Plans

_**Author's Note: **__I know what you are thinking… HOORAH! Another chapter! There will be another coming after this. Soon, I hope. As usual, life is getting in the way. Still, enjoy this addition and don't forget to give me reviews. _

---------------------------------

**Chapter 19**

Jack was never one to obey orders down to the letter. However, his tendencies to listen to his instincts instead of protocol had gotten him and his team out of more scraps than he cared to admit had happened. As such, when Jack had finished his official part in the Doctor's plan to rescue Grace from the Master's clutches, he went in search of the Doctor instead of going back to the TARDIS as he had been instructed.

While performing the necessary modifications to Shada's computers, Jack had come across a map of the prison planet's main wing, which was where the TARDIS had materialized. On the map, he noticed not only where all the rooms and corridors were, but also where all the people were, as an adjustment to the settings with the sonic screwdriver allowed life signs to show. Besides his own life sign, he found two Gallifreyans and two humans, one each in a cell in the temporary holding facilities and one each in a large room labeled as the main lab. It didn't take much to figure out who was who on the map.

Memorizing the map quickly, he headed off towards the holding facilities, determined to instigate a jailbreak. However, when he arrived there, he found the area far too secure. For one, the facility had a deadlock seal that could only be released by inputting the correct security pass code. And while Jack could break the code given time, the second reason the area was too secure was approaching the facility: a Pzathorglawian – not the sort of people you want to make angry, Jack remembered - guiding a rather good-looking man, probably in his early thirties, wearing black jeans and a black t-shirt. Jack remained hidden as he briefly admired the sight of the man's firm body until he realized that he might be ogling the Master, a thought that made him cringe slightly.

The Captain waited, watching the entrance carefully as the handsome man went into the holding facilities. He came back out a few minutes later, seeming extremely pleased with himself, walking off with his muscle-bound escort. Before Jack could make any leeway on the lock, Lucy Saxon made an appearance, going into the facilities, a second Pzathorglawian – he could tell the two were not the same creature from the slightly different tint of gray their skins had - following her in and carrying a small chest. Again, several minutes passed before the door opened again, allowing Lucy to leave, this time with the Doctor and Grace following, the Pzathorglawian just behind them, the chest having been left behind.

The Doctor held himself stiffly, as if the act of walking was a task, indicating that he was injured in some manner. Grace seemed to be worse off than the Doctor. She was dressed in little more than a nightgown and the Doctor's long overcoat, making her seem very much like a vulnerable child. She whimpered occasionally as if in response to feeling pain. She seemed to be tolerating the obviously gentle hold of her husband, as if she wanted it but couldn't stand it. But what really stood out were her eyes. They seemed wild and unfocused. It wasn't an expression that gave Jack warm fuzzy feelings.

Careful not to be seen, Jack followed the group just outside what he remembered the map said was the main lab. The Master's lab, Jack had no doubts. There were two doors leading into the lab, one on either side of the room. There was the main door through which the Doctor and Grace had been escorted and the other door which led to a disused office. Said office had its own door that led into the corridors.

Certain that the corridors were now empty, Jack slipped into the office and then to the lab's side door. Seeing that the door was wide open, Jack hid just behind the doorframe. Peeking around the edge of the door, he took note of the lab's layout. The door opened up to just off-center of the lab, giving Jack a nearly unobstructed view of the Master and the Doctor as they stood in the middle of the lab and talked about the large, intimidating machine in the middle of the floor. One Pzathorglawian stood at the far end of the lab, waiting for instructions from the Master while, at the same time, keeping an eye on Grace, who was bundled up on herself near the main door. If he was going to successfully rescue the Doctor and Grace, Jack knew he would have to get rid of the Pzathorglawian first. And that in itself was going to require some clever planning.

While the Master and the Doctor sparred, a plan started to build in Jack's mind. He immediately went into action and made the necessary preparations while listening to the conversation enough to know that the machine in the lab could easily kill the Doctor if it didn't do what it was designed to do. He was about to put the plan in action when he found himself watching helplessly as the Doctor walked into the contraption that, in the former Time Agent's opinion, looked like an over-decorated enclosed shower. The machine whined to life, pillars swirling around the booth at break-neck speed. Then the scream came and Jack had to force himself not to move from his spot. The scream seemed to come to him in stereo as, almost immediately, a female scream echoed the Doctor's. Jack didn't dare take a peek to verify that Grace was also feeling the pain her husband was enduring.

It was a full minute before the screams died and the machine's whine ended, the pillars slowing to a stop. The Master opened the door wide, revealing the Doctor's quivering form inside.

"Feel any different?" the Master questioned.

The Doctor leaned against the back wall of the chamber, trying to catch his breath. "You mean other than feeling as if my entire body has been turned to liquid and then reconstituted?" he whispered tightly, obviously in pain from what he had undergone.

The Master gave a huff of a laugh. "Come out of there, Doctor. Let me examine you properly." He turned from the door and walked to an examination table, unconcerned about the Doctor's plight. The latter struggled out of the machine, practically crawling as he attempted to gain his footing.

Jack watched with growing concern, noting that there was now a splotch of blood on the Gallifreyan's white dress shirt. "Oh, Doctor. What has he done to you?" he whispered to himself.

The Doctor stumbled to follow the Master as instructed, still feeling as if his body wasn't entirely whole. It was an odd sensation, not dissimilar to a bad regeneration but also unlike anything he had ever felt before. There was one feeling, though, that stood out blatantly. Something was terribly wrong. Something close. Something very familiar. Making sure that the Master wasn't paying close attention to his actions as he supported himself on one of the lab's tables, he turned his eyes carefully to his left and noticed the tall human form peeking through the opposite lab door.

_Jack_, he thought, focusing his concentration on sending the telepathic message to his immortal friend. He saw the Captain stiffen at the voice in his head and hid a smile. _Thought you would hear me. Get Grace out of here. She won't want to go with you but you have to force her. Get her to the TARDIS and into the Zero Room._

Jack was immediately grateful for some of his Time Agent training. He'd been categorized as a Level Two telepath, meaning that he could communicate with another Level Two telepath, or one who was somehow manipulated with telepathy technology, but not a non-telepath. He had used this training only once in the last twenty years. Then, one of his team had a pendant that allowed her to read others' minds. Tosh had been used by an escaped alien convict to gain access to a transport pod. It was only thanks to Tosh wearing that telepathy pendant that Jack was able to instruct Tosh on what to do without causing the alien to know of his plans. Given that the Doctor was born a telepath, it was likely that, on the Lettingham scale, he rated a Level Eight or even higher, which meant that communicating with the Gallifreyan was more up to the Doctor than it was up to Jack.

Now, as he listened to the Doctor's instructions, he frowned. _Why won't Grace want to go with me? And where the hell is the Zero Room?_ he replied mentally, his eyes meeting the Doctor's briefly as he did so.

_Respectively, long story and in the TARDIS. Just ask her for the Zero Room and it should be the first one through the auxiliary door._

_What about you? _Jack worried.

_Never mind me. Just get Grace out of here._

_I've set up a distraction. Get ready to go for the other door_, Jack instructed, hoping that the Doctor would be able to make a getaway in his current condition.

"Oh, come on!" the Master suddenly complained as he noticed the Doctor hadn't moved in a while, interrupting the latter's thought processes. "You're moving slower than when you were old and decrepit." He paused, noticing the stain of red on the Doctor's shirt. "Oh, I see a couple of wounds opened up on you. No wonder you don't want to move too quickly. Still, you are holding me up from my destiny. Now, get over here and let me take a look at you," he ordered.

The Doctor gave the Master a non-descript glance as he pushed himself away from the table that supported him and took the final steps to reach the Master. However, as he did so, the sound of metal rolling on concrete filled the room only to be followed by a growing billow of smoke.

Coughing against the sudden atmospheric invasion, the Master and Lucy turned to locate the source of the interruption and immediately saw movement in the office. The Master turned first to the Doctor, giving him a glare, before turning to the Zhtwohi brother.

"Why did I even defrost you? Go check it out!" he ordered vehemently.

The alien mercenary didn't hesitate, moving remarkably quick for his size as he hurried into the office. The room was filling with smoke just as quickly as the lab, making visibility difficult for the Pzathorglawian. A tall figure stood at the far end of the room, just in front of the corridor door.

"You know," the figure stated, his voice lilting with self-pride. "There's one thing I really like about electronic doors. You can program them to open and close at precisely the moment you want. In this case…" He opened the door behind him by slapping a scanner on his left, "…at the touch of a button." He slapped the scanner again as he dived from the room, narrowly missing being crushed by the rapidly closing door.

The Pzathorglawian rushed to towards the door as it dropped, determined to get hold of the intruder. Even as he did so, the door on the other side of the room that led into the lab shut at the same time, effectively sealing him alone in the office. The smoke in the room caused the gray alien to cough in protest as he attempted to open the doors, failing with each effort.

Jack quickly got back in his feet the moment he was in the corridor and hurried to the lab's main door. Opening the door, he was assaulted by the sound of Grace screaming from the smoke attacking her senses while the Master seemed frustrated by the sudden turn of events.

Having heard a familiar voice coming from the office, the Master growled. "Harkness!" He turned to the Doctor. "I should have known you wouldn't have come without a contingency plan. What's his next move?" he demanded.

The Doctor gave him a knowing smile. "What's wrong, Master? Can't make an educated guess based on where you feel his presence? Can't you feel his presence anymore?"

"Harry!" Lucy coughed against the smoke, pointing to the other door as it opened.

The Doctor looked at Jack quickly, knowing that, with the Master flustered by the chaos, this was his only chance to stop his insane plan of galactic conquest. "Sonic!" he shouted to him and was immediately rewarded when he reached up and grabbed the object thrown towards him. He quickly turned towards the Endowment Chamber and the small device whined.

"NO!" the Master yelled, watching as his great achievement crackled and sparked, small explosions and fires starting as the sonic screwdriver fried the machine's extremely advanced circuitry. So horrified was he by the loss, he didn't even notice that the Doctor had hurriedly stumbled out of the lab, following Jack and Grace, the latter struggling and screaming against Jack as she was pushed through the door.

While the Doctor slumped against one wall, obviously in pain, Jack held Grace tightly in one arm as he quickly closed the door and smashed the controls with his gun, preventing the door from being easily opened.

Grace forcibly escaped Jack's hold. "Get away from me! Get away!" she continued to scream, pressing herself into the corridor's wall in an attempt to put distance between herself and Jack. "No! Please! Please! Don't hurt me! Stay away!"

The Captain watched with wide eyes for a moment. The Doctor had said that she wouldn't cooperate with him but he really didn't expect such absolute fear of him from her. He turned his eyes towards the Gallifreyan who was regaining his breath.

"What the hell is wrong with her?" he questioned, raising his voice.

Grace screamed, cringing at the sound.

"Lower your voice," the Doctor ordered, his brown eyes glaring at Jack. He pushed himself from the wall and slowly approached his wife, crouching slowly in front of her.

"The question still stands," Jack told him, this time matching the Doctor's tone.

"She was raped by an extremely powerful telepath. What do you think is wrong with her?" the Doctor told him, slowly reaching up to touch Grace's cheek. His hearts tightened when he saw her pull away from his touch, shaking with fear. "It's okay," he whispered to her. "You're safe. That's our friend Jack. Remember Jack?"

Even as he asked the question, a loud bang came from the office door, causing Grace to withdraw into herself.

"Doctor, we don't have time for this," Jack pressed. "You're injured…"

"I can manage," the Gallifreyan murmured.

"…she's psychotic…"

The Doctor gave him a glare. "She's not psychotic," he growled at her.

Jack sighed. "Sorry. The point I'm making is that, in a few minutes, that Pzathorglawian is going to get through my little trap for him and the Master is definitely going to find a way to open this door." As if to reaffirm his words, another loud bang came from the office door, followed by one from the lab's door.

"I think it's more likely the other Zhtwohi brother will come and rescue them from behind those locked doors," the Doctor commented as he brushed Grace's hair, calming her from her troubled state.

"It gets even better," Jack grumbled. "Listen, we've got to get moving and neither of you is in any condition for running from trouble."

"Just take care of Grace," the Doctor told him.

The Captain rolled his eyes. "She won't even let me get near her without kicking and screaming. And don't give me any bullshit about managing when you're obviously bleeding."

"I can walk on my own. She can't, not in her mental state," the Doctor replied firmly. "You'll take care of her. I'll make sure that she will cooperate with you."

"How are you going to do that?" Jack questioned dubiously.

The Doctor, however, obviously didn't hear Jack's query, his eyes focuses on the frightened woman in front of him. "Grace. _Grace laharni maha_," he called to her softly. Gaining her attention, her eyes looking into his, he gave her a loving smile. "It's okay. We'll take care of you. But right now," he told her, his fingertips brushing her temples, "you need to sleep. Go to sleep, Grace."

Another cacophony of bangs filled the corridor, causing Grace to startle slightly.

"But he's there… behind my eyes," she protested, trying to fight sleep despite her eyes growing very heavy.

"And so am I," he whispered. "Protecting you." He watched her eyes go towards the doors. "Ignore the doors. It's just noise. Go to sleep, _kardatare maha_. You are safe. We will protect you." He sighed with relief as he watched her eyes close and felt her mind relax.

"Carry her," he instructed Jack, struggling to stand. He allowed the Captain to assist him to his feet.

Jack gave the Doctor a concerned look but didn't argue against him. He bent down and gently lifted Grace into his arms. "Grab my shoulder," he ordered the Doctor. Receiving a glare, he returned the expression with one of his own. "You are not arguing with me on this one, Doctor. Grab my shoulder for support."

The Gallifreyan relented and the two started down the corridor at a hurried pace. They'd only gone to the end of the first corridor when they had to quickly hide in one of the abandoned labs as the other Pzathorglawian hurried by towards the Master's lab. Once the path was clear, they quickly resumed their journey through the corridors. 

The closer they got to the TARDIS, the more the Doctor struggled to maintain his composure, his brown eyes shining with the pain he'd been suppressing the entire time of their harried escape. It was actually a help rather than a hindrance that, on the way, they'd had to hide to avoid being seen by one of the Zhtwohi brothers as they searched for the escapees. Each stop had allowed the Gallifreyan to regain some of his strength. But now, with their goal only a short corridor away, he was finding himself lagging behind, using the walls to support his weight.

"Doctor!" Jack called back to him, seeing him pressed against the corridor's wall, his eyes closed as he panted against the exertion he was placing on his body. The Captain quickly hurried back to him. "You okay? Not far to go now. Just around the corner and into the cupboard."

"I'll be fine," the Gallifreyan whispered back to him.

Jack scrutinized him quickly. The small splotch of blood that he'd seen on the Doctor's shirt back at the Master's lab had grown into a large splotch that was threatening to permanently make its mark on the Doctor's trousers. "No, you're not," he told the Doctor with conviction. He moved to put Grace down.

"No."

Jack looked at him with wide eyes. "You're bleeding heavily and you need help. I'll take care of you and then come back for Grace."

"Grace first," the Doctor insisted.

"Doctor…" Jack started.

"Doctor!" came a sing-song voice from their destination. "I know you're near, Doctor. You can't escape, you know. My remarkable wife and my friends are slowly converging on this location. To avoid them, you're going to have to keep moving forward, right into my waiting arms. And if they capture you first… well, your wife really is a fabulous lay and handsome Jack may be immortal but that doesn't mean I can't make his life miserable. You know from experience that I can. Oh, and I've put up the transduction barrier around the planet. You can't leave Shada even if you tried. So, why don't you make it easier on yourself, your wife, and your friend and just surrender?"

The Doctor closed his eyes as he listened to the Master's words, knowing that he would make good on his threat even if he did surrender to him. Opening his eyes, he looked at Jack and saw the determination on his face. He knew immediately from that look that the head of Torchwood wasn't about to surrender without a fight. That is, unless the Doctor told him to do so but with the knowledge that the latter never would.

"Ideas?" he questioned the Captain.

"I could just shoot him," Jack replied, shifting Grace's weight in his arms.

The Gallifreyan lowered his eyelids at his suggestion. "He's not a Time Lord anymore, Jack. You shoot him, he won't regenerate."

"All the more reason for me to do it," came the reply.

The Doctor sighed slightly. "Killing the Master isn't the answer."

"No," Jack agreed. "But it sure as hell is tempting. Certainly would be easier to get to the TARDIS if I did."

As they talked, however, they heard a sudden cry and then a loud thump, causing them to hurry to look around the corner. There, standing just outside the cupboard door, one of the Doctor's mallets in her hand, was Martha, towering over the Master as he groaned, half unconscious on the floor.

"Martha!" the Doctor exclaimed with a grin.

"Are you just going to stand there or are we getting the hell out of here?" the UNIT doctor demanded.

Jack took the lead, quickly carrying Grace to the TARDIS. "Help the Doctor," he ordered Martha as, lowering Grace so that he supported her against his chest, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his key to the TARDIS.

Martha turned towards the Doctor at Jack's command. "Oh, my gawd!" she exclaimed at the sight of him, hurrying to support his weight the rest of the way to the time ship. "What happened?"

"Not now, Martha," the Doctor told her bluntly as they quickly got into the TARDIS just before the Master struggled to his feet and the sound of people running filled the corridor.

"Harry!" Lucy called out, getting to her husband just as the TARDIS door closed. She helped him to his feet only for him to push her off abruptly.

Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a Yale key and hurried to the TARDIS, sliding the key into the lock. Finding himself unable to unlock the door, he slapped his hand on the door and then a fist before Lucy grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

The Master cried out in frustration, kicking the nearest wall before turning to glare at the TARDIS door, looking very much like he could burn the door away if he glowered at it hard enough.

Lucy went to his side slowly and rubbed his arm soothingly. "They can't escape, my love. Eventually, they will have to come out."

"Eventually isn't soon enough," the Master growled darkly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The moment the door was closed, the Doctor pushed Martha away from him and flicked the latch on the door, effectively preventing anyone else from getting into the ship. Then, stumbling he went over to the console.

"We need to dematerialize," he told his friends.

"First, we need to get you and Grace into the infirmary," Martha answered vehemently.

The Doctor didn't even glance at her as he started to set coordinates, using the console to support his weight. "No, first, Jack needs to get Grace into the Zero Room."

"What's the Zero Room?" Martha questioned as Jack hurried to obey the Doctor's order. "And what the hell are you doing?" she demanded, going up to the Doctor to try to stop him from harming himself any further than he already was.

"Finishing the plan," the Doctor replied bluntly. "Say out of the way and let me be until we're safely away from Shada."

Almost as if the reaffirm his conviction, the main door rattled as it was hit two times consecutively.

"The transduction barrier is still up," Jack reminded as he returned through the auxiliary doors. Seeing the Doctor give him a questioning look, he nodded. "She's in the Zero Room. What's it for?"

"And what's a transduction barrier?" Martha questioned, her eyes on the blood on the Doctor's shirt.

Getting no answer from the Doctor on either question, Jack answered the latter as the Doctor continued to make adjustments on the control console. "It's sort of like a planetary force field, preventing ships from coming or going without clearance."

"So, with it still being up, we can't leave," Martha concluded.

"We will be able to in a moment," the Doctor replied as he flicked a switch. The action destabilized the tentative hold he had on the console, sending him tumbling to the grated floor.

Martha hurried to tend to him, giving him a berating look. She started to open his shirt to look at his damage his chest had obviously endured but was gently pushed away by the Doctor, who struggled back onto his feet.

"Once we're in the vortex, then you can tend to me," he told her as he tapped away at his console keyboard, leaning against the console for support. "There. That should do it. Jack, the other side. The green button. Hit it."

The Captain ran to do as he was instructed. A moment later, the time rotor started moving in its normal up and down rhythm, the grating sound of the TARDIS' engines filling the room.

A moment later, the Doctor smile almost serenely. "We're safe," he told his friends. He looked up into Jack's smiling face. "Thank you."

"All in a day's work," Jack replied. "Now, let Martha take care of you."

Martha looked between the two men, completely lost as to what just happened. Did they both just say that the transduction barrier would prevent their escape? The questions she had about their getting away from Shada fell to the wayside as she noted the Doctor's increasingly weakening condition.

"You can explain the hows later, you two," she told them as she turned towards the Doctor. "Let me take a look at you."

"It's not as bad as it looks," he tried to assure her.

His assurances did nothing to ease either of his friends' minds when his eyes suddenly went blank and he abruptly collapsed to the floor, unconscious.


	22. Chapter 20: Heartbreak

**Chapter 20**

The second Pzathorglawian was just arriving with a set of universal TARDIS keys – a necessity in any good Gallifreyan prison – when the sound of grinding engine parts filled the air. The Master watched with a stunned expression as the TARDIS dematerialized in front of him, taking away his test subjects and favorite "toys".

"No!" he exclaimed, struggling against his wife's hold of him. Only when the time ship had vanished completely did he turn towards her with dangerous eyes. "Why did you stop me? He was getting away!"

"And let you die from direct exposure to the Time Vortex? I may only be a lowly human but I'm also your wife and you've taught and shown me enough for me to known what the Vortex will do to you. And I will NOT lose you! Not to the Doctor! Not to anyone!"

The Master looked into her eyes for a moment before turning towards the Zhtwohis. "Well, what are you waiting for? Check the status of the transduction barrier!"

The grey creatures moved away quickly to obey the order.

"Harkness obviously found the authorization codes for the barrier and the Doctor used it to make their escape," the Master told his wife.

"So, what do we do?" she questioned.

"We go after them, of course!" he yelled at her.

"In Ramses' ship?" Lucy pointed out. "It will take almost a year to get back to Earth and we don't know for certain that that is where he went. We also have no guarantee that he will still be there if he DID go to Earth!"

The impact of his hand on her face caused Lucy to fall to the floor, her hand protecting her aching cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Harry…"

He glared at her. "Master," he corrected.

"Master," she repeated, unable to hide her adoration of him despite how blatantly she feared his temper. "I'm sorry for talking back and angering you." Slowly, she got on her feet and took his hand. "But you must also see the truth of my reasoning. The Doctor is gone and the chances of recovering him within our timeframe are slim. We should focus on achieving our goals and making you the true Master of the galaxy… of the universe."

"The Doctor destroyed the Endowment Chamber," he reminded her.

"And you will rebuild it," she affirmed with confidence. "And once you have made me like you, we will blaze across the stars, you and I, bringing forth the New Time Lord Empire with you as Emperor and me at your side." She kissed him passionately, pulling him close enough to rub against him.

The moment vanished in an instant when the Zhtwohis reappeared, both looking disappointed.

"Well, what is it?" Lucy demanded of them. "Speak up!" she shouted at them when neither said anything immediately.

"We found a problem with the transduction barrier," one replied. "It will not come down. The authorization code has been changed and the system itself has been sabotaged. Based on observation, it appears to be irreparably damaged."

Lucy's eyes widened. "You mean we're trapped here? On Shada?"

The two nodded in synchronicity.

The Master glared at them, clearly displeased with their report. "There is no such thing as irreparably damaged. It may take time or someone far more intelligent than you two thick-skulled idiots." He turned away from them, took Lucy's arm, and marched away from the Pzathorglawians. "You're useless!" he spat over his shoulder as he rounded the corner at the next hallway junction, continuing onto his destination.

"Where are we going?" Lucy questioned her husband, allowing him to bring her with him.

"First, I'm going to make sure I never see those two buffoons again. With our quarry gone, they've outlived their usefulness." He turned to look into her eyes to see if she would argue with him on the point. Seeing no such qualms in her eyes, he continued. "And then we are going to the lab to start over. We rebuild the Endowment Chamber and we bring that transduction barrier down, no matter how long it takes."

Lucy Saxon didn't reply to the Master's determined response, her mind on the problems they now faced. She had no doubts that the Master would succeed in his goals. She just hoped that it happened before her short human life ended.

She wasn't fond of Shada being her final resting place.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"GRACE!"

"Whoa!" Jack exclaimed at the shout from the infirmary bed, the volume of it startling him into jumping from the seat he'd taken. He and Martha had been discussing both the Doctor's and Grace's conditions when the abrupt interruption filled the air, prompting both humans to hurry to the current patient's side.

"Doctor? Doctor, it's okay," Martha soothed, restraining the hyperventilating Gallifreyan. "It's okay. You're safe in the TARDIS."

His wide brown eyes met hers instantly. "Grace. Where's Grace?" he demanded.

"In the Zero Room where you told me to take her," Jack answered his question, concerned about the way the Doctor was reacting.

The Doctor exhaled with relief at the immortal man's answer, suddenly calm. "That explains why I can't feel her," he whispered mostly to himself before attempting to sit up, his efforts thwarted by Martha's strong hold on him. He gave her a questioning frown.

"I just stitched and bandaged you," she explained. "I'm not letting you pull my stitch work and start bleeding again. With how much you've lost, I'm surprised you aren't dead."

He gave her a slightly amused smile. "I'm not quite that bad off," he assured her. "Besides, a good meal and a cup of tea and I should be as right as rain."

"I seriously doubt it," she countered. "You may no longer be infected by Rassi-whatsit…"

"_Rassilon'it-shan_," the Doctor corrected her. "How did you figure that?"

"Wasn't hard," Martha replied.

"According to what you told us about _Rassilon'it-shan_ poisoning, you would already be dead a long time ago if you still were infected," Jack added, interrupting Martha's explanation.

She gave him a slight glare before continuing. "Point is, you are still in no condition to just hop off the couch and act as if nothing happened."

"I also heal more quickly than the average human," the Doctor gently told her. "I will be fine. I promise not to hop off anything, couch or otherwise." He took a slow breath. "Besides, I need to check on Grace and then on the TARDIS. That was a rough dematerialization and I'm sure that she needs some attention…" Seeing the look on his friends' faces, his voice lowered slightly. "…which Jack can do without me getting in the way," he conceded, allowing their victory in that one area.

Jack and Martha exchanged looks before gazing on the Doctor with stunned expressions.

"Wait…" Jack put in, blinking slightly. "Did we just... win?"

The Doctor gave him a slight smile. "Yes, you did. Provided that you allow me to attend to Grace."

"I examined her…" Martha started.

The Doctor turned to her with wide eyes, sitting up as he did so. "You went into the Zero Room?" he demanded.

"Well, I couldn't bring her here," she countered. "Jack wouldn't let me take her out of there."

He gave them both a hard glare. "No one goes in that room except for me. Is that clearly understood?"

"How am I going to help her if I'm not allowed near her?" Martha exclaimed with growing frustration.

"Help her? You harm her every time you go in there! Grace's sanity is hanging on a thread as it is without people swarming around her like a bunch of irritating mosquitoes."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "She was unconscious when I examined her. I seriously doubt I caused her psychological damage. Besides, you weren't exactly up to examining her yourself and I felt it was important to do so as soon as possible in case there were physical injuries added to psychological injuries she had obviously already endured."

He seemed to calm a little at her explanation. "Were there?" he asked quietly.

She hesitated only a moment, knowing her answer would hurt him. "Some," he told him gently. "Vaginal tearing… a few lacerations that indicate she'd been cut with a sharp object, probably a knife… a couple of burn marks."

The Gallifreyan ran a hand through his hair, his eyes growing dark with each diagnosis Martha gave him. He gritted his teeth and swallowed his fury down. So enraptured was he in his hatred-filled thoughts of the Master, he startled at the feel of Jack's hand on his shoulder, the latter's blue eyes meeting his brown ones.

"He's trapped on Shada, Doctor," Jack assured him. "The Master isn't going to hurt anyone else."

"He'll find a way to escape," came the reply. "He always finds a way. A sabotaged transduction barrier isn't going to keep him from leaving Shada eventually." The Doctor took a breath. "We can worry about that when the time comes, which won't be for at least several more years, hopefully several more decades. Right now, I need to take care of Grace." He slowly stood from the infirmary bed, looking around. "Clothes?" he questioned.

Martha sighed, knowing that she wouldn't be able to change his mind and have him stay in the infirmary. She went to retrieve the clothing requested, speaking as she did.

"So, what is the Zero Room? Why aren't we mere mortals allowed to go in there?"

"It's sort of a respite from the universe. It exists outside of time and space. The ideal place to recuperate after a regeneration gone terribly bad. I've made use of one myself. Well… not this one. The one I had before. Had to eject it for some reason that I can't recall at the moment. Anyway, the reason I had you put her in there, Jack, is because the Master altered the way her mind perceives the universe. Her senses have been enhanced so that she is hypersensitive to everything. And I mean literally everything. She can hear someone's heartbeat if they are in the same room with her, even if they are on the other side of that room. That was why I was so insistent that you keep your voice low around her. To her, our regular speech cadences were like very loud shouting to her." He turned his gaze to Martha as she handed him his suit. "And if she had been conscious when you examined her, Martha, it would have been like torture to her. That is why neither of you can go in the Zero Room. Just your presence is painful to her."

"But _you_ can go in," Jack pointed out, almost questioning the wisdom of the act. "If our presence hurts her, why doesn't yours?"

"My presence does hurt her," he admitted. "But I would prefer to limit her exposure to outside influences. I can help her but I need a carefully controlled environment. The Zero Room is perfect for that. No outside influences can breach the walls. And when I'm in there, it'll be just her and me." He sighed, his emotions showing clearly in his expressive eyes. "Hopefully I can undo the damage the Master inflicted on her."

"I did as much as I could for her physically when I saw her," Martha put in delicately.

The Doctor gave her a hint of a smile. "Thank you," he told her genuinely. Slowly, he put on the clothes Martha provided, careful not to pull his stitches or to strain his aching body any more than he needed to. "Have we materialized outside the vortex?" he questioned, knowing that Jack would understand his query was directed towards him.

"Apparently the TARDIS is in need of a bit of refueling as she materialized herself right on her favorite spot on Roald Dahl Plaza."

The Doctor nodded his words. "Cardiff. Brilliant. We'll just hold up here and let the TARDIS refuel and heal. Couple of days, maybe more. Just enough time to take care of a couple of things before you two go home."

"I had a feeling you were going to say that," Jack commented with a slight grumble. "Not that I mind but who's going to take care of you while you're taking care of Grace?" He straightened slightly at a thought. "That machine the Master put you in… what did it do to you?"

"Machine?" Martha questioned. "What machine? Why wasn't I told about this?"

Jack's eyes didn't move from the Doctor as he answered her. "When he went in, he seemed fine, if hurting. When he came out, he was bleeding. Did it cause your injuries?" he questioned the Doctor.

The Gallifreyan gave a hint of a laugh. "Just the opposite, actually. It gave me the ability to heal as quickly as I am. It was an Endowment Chamber. Turned civilians into Time Lords. Well, civilian Gallifreyans anyway. The Master's Endowment Chamber was designed to also turn other species into Gallifreyans so, if you think about it, anyone could be turned into a Time Lord, not just Gallifreyans."

"So… the Master first healed you from the _Rassilon'it-shan_ and then he made you a Time Lord again?" Martha questioned.

"Essentially," he replied. He grinned slightly. "I'm as good as I used to be. Or at least will be once I've had food and rest for a couple of days. And that's even with helping Grace so don't get all riled up."

"But why would he do that? Take it all away from you and then just give it back?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked her.

"Guinea pig," Jack realized, causing both the Doctor and Martha to look at him. "He needed a test subject for the Endowment Chamber. That's also why he kidnapped Grace. To test the machine on a Gallifreyan and a human."

The Doctor nodded at Jack's words. "As I said before, he wants the ability to regenerate again. And, as twisted as the relationship may seem, I think he honestly cares for Lucy Saxon and vice versa. That being the case, he'd want her to be able to regenerate as well. And she can't do that unless she is first a Gallifreyan and then a Time Lord."

"Which is why you destroyed the machine."

"I can't let him have that kind of power," the Time Lord confirmed.

"Because he could create an army of Time Lords and actually succeed in building a Time Lord Empire with him as Emperor," Jack concluded. He frowned after a moment. "But if he was able to build an Endowment Chamber in the first place, won't he be able to repair the damaged you did to it."

"No," came the somber answer. "Not without serious consequences."

Jack's brow furrowed slightly. "So, how many regenerations do you have, now that you've been reborn… sort of?"

The Time Lord shrugged. "I have no idea. Could be the three I lost originally. Could be I have thirteen again. Could be thirteen plus three. Could be any number, for all I know. But I know that I can regenerate. I can feel the energy in me, subdued until it's needed."

"All that I care is that you and Grace are away from that place and are safe, if not completely well," Martha told him firmly.

He grinned gently at her words for a moment before slowly walking out of the infirmary. "I'll meet you on the plaza in half an hour. I'm famished but I need to check on Grace first, make sure that she's taken care of beforehand."

Neither of his companions said a word as they watched him disappear around a corner.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor stepped carefully into the Zero Room, his hearts already burning with the sight before him. Lying in the center of the room on a large pillow-like mattress was Grace, her eyes wide as she stared into seeming nothingness. She whimpered slightly as he came closer to her. Closing her eyes tightly, she turned her head to bury her face into the mattress, shaking slightly.

Slowly lowering himself into the mattress, the Doctor gently brushed her hair, conveying all his love for her in the simple action.

"You're safe now, amazing Grace," he whispered to her. "He can't hurt you anymore."

"Yes, he can," she protested with a quivering voice. "He's still there behind my eyes. He looks like you." She sobbed heavily. "Oh, Thete, I'm so scared!"

The Doctor carefully reached to pull her close to her. However, as he started to do so, she screamed in terror and pulled herself away from him.

"Stay away from me!" she cried, scrambling to one side of the room. A moment later, she balled herself into fetal position, pressing her hands onto top of her head to further protect herself.

He closed his eyes at her reaction, again wishing that he didn't have to do what needed to be done. Opening his eyes, he stood and cautiously went to her, sitting in front of her with sadness in his eyes.

"Oh, Grace," he whispered to her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive me." Gently, he pulled her hands from her head before cradling her face with his hands. Closing his eyes once more, he took a deep breath and concentrated.

He forced himself to block out her screams of terror as he delved into her mind. He forced himself to hold onto her despite her struggles to get away from him. And then, when he couldn't block them anymore, he slowly backed out, his own emotions making it impossible to repair any of the damage done by the Master. He opened his eyes to see Grace looking at him with loathing, obviously feeling as if he had betrayed her trust in him. He felt the tears on his cheeks that told he'd been silently crying during the intimate and painful experience.

Standing slowly, he sniffed slightly, burying his feelings. He couldn't break down, not when his wife needed him so much.

Leaning over her slightly, he kissed her forehead. "I love you," he murmured gently to her. He could feel the glare on his back as he slowly left the Zero Room.

Leaning against the wall just outside, he slid down to the floor and sobbed. The Master was right. He couldn't help Grace without doing the exact thing the Master made her believe he had done to her, at least mentally. He knew she would forgive him and that the distrust she felt at the moment would dissipate with the knowledge that he was helping her heal. But he didn't know if he could handle having to hurt her constantly just as he had only moments before. The session had ripped a hole in his heart – figuratively, of course. Having felt her pain and confusion as he tried to mentally stitch the tears in her mind had drained him of his resolve and the look on her face when he had finished was more than he could bear. He didn't know how many times he could endure having his hearts broken day in and day out as Grace's therapy continued.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the woman on the other side of the door. Slowly, as if it were a painful thing to do, he stood up and walked away from the door, knowing that he would do so many more times in the future.


	23. Chapter 21: Decisions

**Chapter 21**

The Doctor was sitting on the Captain's chair, a somber look on his face, when the TARDIS' main door opened, allowing Jack and Martha to come in.

"Hey," Jack said as they walked over to him, a flat box in Jack's hand. "We waited an hour but you didn't show so we decided to come looking for you. We figured that you probably didn't eat so…" He put the box on the console, allowing a couple of switches to prevent it from sliding onto the floor. "They make a pretty good pizza. We order from them all the time." He looked at the Doctor and noticed that he hadn't moved a muscle the entire time.

The Time Lord didn't reply, still staring seemingly at nothing. His friends exchanged looks for a moment before Martha cleared her throat slightly.

"I had the TARDIS running some blood analysis on Grace. I better go check and see if there are any results," she told Jack, knowing from the look on the Doctor's face that he needed to talk. She also knew that if anyone could get the Doctor to talk it was Jack.

She gently touched the Doctor's arm, gaining his attention. "We have to talk about Grace," she told him gently.

"She's pregnant," he replied knowingly. "The child's mine. But you want to be sure, thus the blood analyses."

"You knew?" Jack questioned with surprise in his voice.

"I felt the child's presence when I first saw Grace on Shada," he explained. He gave Martha a slight smile. "You didn't want to leave me wondering while you verified the baby's parentage. Thank you for the consideration," he told her softly. "Go on. Do your job. I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait for your confirmation."

She hesitated for only a moment before squeezing his arm comfortingly and leaving the console room, glancing behind at Jack, indicating that he should talk to the Time Lord.

Jack sighed slightly at the expression on the Doctor's face. "The session didn't go well, I take it."

The Gallifreyan hesitated before taking a slow breath. "She hated me at the end of it. I hated myself for forcing my mind into hers, even though I know I have to do it to help her." He finally turned his head to look at his friend. "I wasn't able to make any progress. Then again, I didn't expect to the first time around. But if I continue, I'm going to lose her because she will hate that I hurt her so while healing her. If I hand her over to someone else to help her, she will hate me for sending her away – which is what it would be, sending her away – and I will lose her. If I don't help her at all, she will go mad and I will lose her."

"Catch 22," the former Time Agent commented, sympathy in his eyes.

"Yeah," came the quiet response.

A moment passed before either spoke again.

"You can always forgive others but you can never forgive yourself," the head of Torchwood broke the silence as he sat next to the Time Lord. "That's just part of your nature and don't even try to deny it. If you treat her and fail, you will never forgive yourself."

"So you are saying that I should let someone else do it. To trust someone else to make her better." He looked into the immortal man's eyes. "There is a problem with that possibility, Jack, namely that it is impossible. There is no one else. No one except me and the Master and I'm certainly not going to let him anywhere near Grace."

Jack shook his head slightly, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "But it isn't a wise decision to operate on someone you care about. Objectivity goes completely out the window when it becomes personal. Doesn't matter if it's physical illness or mental illness. If you get distracted by her feelings or yours, you could cause her irreparable damage." He paused for a moment. "Try thinking of this situation from her perspective," Jack suggested. "Or, better yet, reverse the situation. If you were the one hurt… say you needed a critical operation on one of your hearts… would you want Grace to be your surgeon? And I'm talking about emotions here, not capabilities because I know she's a fine cardiologist."

Another long silence passed between the men before the Doctor gave his answer.

"Only if there were no other choice," he admitted. He swallowed tightly. "I wouldn't want her to have to deal with the situation if something went wrong."

"Don't you think she feels the same about you operating on her?" Jack paused for a moment before continuing. "You said Grace would hate you if you sent her to someone else. I honestly don't think that is true and I don't think you believe that either. You're afraid of losing her and I can understand that. Anyone would be afraid of losing the person they love under the circumstances. And they certainly don't want to feel helpless while the person they love is hurting." The tone in Jack's voice indicated that it wasn't an unknown subject for him.

The Doctor thought for a long moment, his eyes showing that he was considering Jack's words.

"When I was in her mind… I hurt her. I could feel her pain as I tried so hard to start reversing the damage the Master had done to her." He looked over to Jack. "The look on her face when I slowly pulled out… She has never looked at me with such blatant hatred before. I don't think my hearts could bear seeing that look again. And I know I will see it again and again after every session. I want to be able to help. I have the skill. I have the heart. I just don't know if I have the strength." His eyes shined with unreleased tears upon the admission.

"Then let someone else help her," Jack replied gently. Seeing the Doctor huff, he quickly rushed forward in his words. "Okay, I understand that because you are both Gallifreyans you're both stronger telepaths than any other telepath in the whole galaxy, possibly in the whole universe. But that doesn't mean there isn't someone who knows your ways." The Doctor gave him a hint of a stare, daring him to prove his hypothesis. "What about Elysia?" he suggested.

"Elysia is a myth, Jack. It doesn't exist," the Doctor told him firmly.

"Just like Shada, Gallifrey, and Time Lords are myths," he countered. He gave him a sly smile. "And yet, I'm sitting next to a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey who just took me to Shada to rescue his wife."

The Doctor shook his head slightly at his words. "I'm not betting the sanity of my wife and child on a myth." Slowly standing, he picked up the pizza box and opened it to look at its contents. "Pepperoni, ham, and peppers," he commented. "Grace loves peppers. The hotter the better, in her opinion. Mind if I take a couple of pieces to her?"

"How about I take a couple of pieces for me and Martha and you can take the rest?" Jack answered gently. He stood and took the suggested slices from the box before closing it. He looked into the Gallifreyan's eyes. "You're going to be around for a while, yeah?"

The Doctor nodded slightly. "Until the TARDIS has repaired herself. Probably leaving tomorrow."

"Where will you go?"

"Home," he answered. "Our house in the Hamptons. Well, Grace's house anyway. I have a feeling we're never going to return there. Might as well pick up a few things, make arrangements." He nodded to the slices Jack held in his hands, a couple of paper napkins protecting them. "Better take those to Martha before they get cold," he told them.

"I'll look for you later and see how you're holding up." Without further word, the former Time Agent went further into the TARDIS, searching for the UNIT doctor.

The Time Lord stood in one spot for a long moment, thinking about what Jack had said and what his hearts were telling him. Taking a deep breath, he found himself walking first to the kitchen to collect a couple of shatter-proof plates and some ginger ale before continuing to the Zero Room. Hoping that his wife no longer felt animosity towards him, he entered the room, a weak smile on his face.

Grace, once again shaking slightly on the mattress, turned her head upon hearing the door open. He stared at her husband as he approached her cautiously.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hi," she replied, her voice bland.

"Brought you something to eat. Well, actually, Jack brought you something to eat. I brought the ginger ale. Figured you're probably very hungry."

She didn't reply to his speculation as he slowly lowered himself to the floor, placing the pizza box between them. She hesitantly accepted a slice and a small bottle of ginger ale from him. The two ate in silence, the events of earlier still obviously on both their minds.

"I hate your name," Grace stated abruptly as she sipped on her soda after they had had their fill.

He frowned at her words. "Sorry?"

"Thete," she clarified. "I hate that name."

He nodded with understanding, knowing that the Master had used the name to convince her that he, the Doctor, had raped her.

"You don't have to call me by that name if you don't want," he assured her. "What do you want to call me?"

She huffed. "A son of a bitch bastard," she answered with a growl. She glared at him. "You hurt me. Not that bastard. You did." She swallowed down a sob. "You promised me that he couldn't hurt me anymore and then you go and… and…" The sob she'd tried to hold came out with a vengeance. "You raped me!"

"Never," he answered firmly, his jaw set. "I never raped you, Grace. I tried to reverse what the Master did to you. And it hurt you. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You were in my head without permission!" she countered. "You were in my head and you hurt me!"

"I never wanted to hurt you!" he retaliated. His voice softened when he saw her bundle into herself as she had before. "Grace, I love you. I love you so much it quite literally hurts. You know that." He slowly approached her and put an arm around her to comfort her. "I'm so sorry, _kardatare maha_, but I had to try to help you."

She turned towards him to cling to him. "It just hurts. Everything hurts," she whimpered. "And when you were in my head… it was like he was raping me all over again." She sniffed as he gently wiped a tear from her face. "I didn't mean any of it. I swear I didn't."

"I know," he whispered to her. "I know, my love."

"I still hate the name though."

The Doctor smiled slightly at her words. "You can still call me whatever you want. Even a son of a bitch bastard, if it helps."

"It doesn't," she whispered, closing her eyes, trying to block out the pain his holding her was causing her and focusing on the emotions behind the action, emotions she wouldn't have felt if it hadn't been for the connection she had with the Doctor as his wife. There was such sorrow and yet so much love mixed with pain.

"I'm not going to get better, am I," she stated more than asked.

"Of course, you are," he immediately contradicted her. "It'll take time and it will be so very hard for you. For both of us. But you will get better. I promise."

"It hurt you, that first time trying to heal me," she murmured knowingly.

He slowly nodded at her words. "More than words can say."

She hesitated for a moment. "Are you going to do it again?"

The Doctor swallowed tightly at her question, forcing down his feelings. "I have to," he told her in a whisper. "If… if there were other Gallifreyans… other Time Lords, I would take you to Gallifrey to a healer." He hesitated. "But there are only two of us, the Master and myself." He hesitated for a moment. "There are hospitals I could take you to but I seriously doubt any of the staff have experience with this sort of thing. I'm sure they have experience with telepaths. But the Master is a Gallifreyan and a very powerful one at that and that's a totally different situation." He felt Grace tightening her hold on him as he finished his rant and his eyes softened when he realized the effect it was having on her. "I'm sorry," he murmured, brushing her hair with his long fingers. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I just want to be better," she told him, shaking in his arms. "I don't want these nightmares. I don't want to hurt all the time anymore." She looked around. "This room feels different. It doesn't hurt as much here. But it's not enough. It still hurts. All the time, it hurts."

The Gallifreyan slowly pulled away from his wife, taking her head in his hands. "I will make you better. I promise." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Now try to rest. I'll be back later." Seeing her nod slightly at his words, he delicately kissed her forehead and then stood. He watched as Grace settled on the mattress – the object that would be her bed for a long time to come – before collecting their trash and exiting the room, certain that the TARDIS would guard over the woman who owned his hearts.

"I can confirm without any doubts whatsoever that Grace Smith's child is also yours," Martha told the Doctor with a smile as he came into the lab where she and Jack had been enjoying their lunch. "I can also confirm that she is seventeen weeks pregnant and that the baby appears to be healthy. Of course, that's based strictly on human anatomy and my limited knowledge of Gallifreyan anatomy."

The Doctor grinned at her words, taking the test results from her hand as she gave them to him. "Any cellular or DNA degradation?"

She frowned at his words. "Are you expecting them?"

"You can't be too careful with cross-species pregnancies," he informed her, sounding very much like he were teaching her and she were still an intern. "You would not believe the mutations I've seen and I want to make absolutely certain that my child isn't one of them." He gave her a small smile. "My father did the same for me. It's the least I can do for my own child."

"Which tells us you're only half-Gallifreyan," Jack put in. Seeing Martha's wide eyes, he explained, "Well, it stands to reason. If his father had to worry about cross-species mutations for the Doctor, then he's only half-Gallifreyan."

The Doctor gave him a slight glare. "I'm full Gallifreyan. Well… mostly. I have a small number of recessive human genes which my father couldn't remove without causing some nasty side effects."

"What recessive genes?" A smile graced Jack's face at the thought.

"If you must know…"

"Oh, we must," Martha taunted, joining in Jack's fascination.

The Gallifreyan gave her a look before giving into their questioning while, at the same time, focusing on the test results in his hands. "Eye color, hair color, minor things like that. I had blue eyes all my lives until this one. And I seem to keep alternating between blond and brown hair. Never ginger. Oh, and a ravenous sweet tooth. Definitely inherited that from my mother. My father hated sweets." He placed the test results on a nearby counter and turned to his friends. "But we are not discussing my personal genetic make-up. We are discussing my child's. And from what I can see, there is no cellular or DNA degradation." He scratched the back of his head. "Which means the baby could be born genuinely half-human, which would be a first in my people's history." He grinned broadly at the idea.

Before either of his friends could comment, however, he continued, changing the subject abruptly. "But now, I think it's time both of you went home." He looked at Martha. "And I mean home. Back to UNIT HQ in London for you." His eyes moved to Jack. "And back to Torchwood for you."

"But you might need someone to help you with Grace," Martha protested. "And what about your own wounds…"

"I'll be fine," he gently interrupted her. He smiled at her gently. "I appreciate the offer. Really. But from here on out, it's a personal matter, one that's between me and my wife." He gave her a tight hug. "Thank you."

She returned the hug, knowing that there wasn't any way to change his mind this time around. Pulling from him, she looked into his eyes. "If you need me, even if it's just to talk…"

"I will," he told her, not letting her finish the sentence. "Goodbye," he finished gently, leaving no doubt in his tone that, as much as he cared for her, it was time for her to leave.

Martha returned the farewell and then slowly left the TARDIS, knowing that it will be a long time before she saw the Doctor again.

"You too, Jack," the Gallifreyan said once Martha had left. "Go back to your team. I'm sure they're expecting you."

Jack nodded, extending his hand to him. "You take care of your wife and yourself," he ordered him before pulling him into a hug.

The Doctor smiled at the gesture. "I will," he assured him as he returned the hug. Pulling away from him, he watched as Jack left the lab, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He picked up the test results again, staring at them for a long moment as he thought about the two most important people in his life: his wife and his child. There was a long road ahead for him and his family but he knew, in his hearts, that they would make it.


	24. Chapter 22: Trouble with an InLaw

**Chapter 22**

"_Oh, gawd, please! Please stop! NO!"_

The words reverberated in his head over and over as he leaned against the corridor wall, his eyes closed in an attempt to block out the sounds in his mind. He paid no heed to the trembling of his body brought on by the pain in his hearts.

It had been over twenty-four hours before the Doctor had tried again to repair the damage in his beloved wife's mind. Though this time Grace had willingly allowed his actions, the trauma was the same, perhaps even worse, than the first time. More frustrating, the results, or rather lack of them, were the same. Knowing that he was only causing Grace more pain, the Doctor had fled from the room and slammed his back against the nearest wall before pounding it with his fist.

His hand throbbed in protest of those actions as he bit back a sob. Why couldn't he help her? He'd helped previous companions with mental trauma before. He remembered when Sarah Jane had fallen under the influence of Eldrad, obeying orders only she could hear. It wasn't nearly as hard to snap her out of it then as it was to help Grace. Then again, Sarah Jane always had been susceptible to hypnosis. All he had to do was make her look into his eyes and tell her, "I want you to listen to me very carefully," and she was completely under his spell. On the other hand, Eldrad was an amateur compared to the Master when it came to the art of mental manipulation.

But Sarah Jane wasn't Grace. Sarah Jane wasn't his wife. Sarah Jane didn't have a special connection with him that could only be broken with death. It should have been easier to help Grace than it ever had been to help Sarah Jane. But it wasn't. In fact, trying to help his betrothed was turning out to be the hardest thing he'd ever done in all his lives, primarily because he failed both times that he tried. The only good thing that came from the last attempt was the look on Grace's face – the happy tears and smile - when he told her that she was four months pregnant, especially after he reassured her that the child was theirs and not the Master's.

He felt the TARDIS nudging for attention in his mind and pushed the sensation away. When it persistently returned, he growled.

"Can't you see I'm busy?!" he shouted angrily. The abrupt silence made him regret his tone, knowing that he'd just hurt his oldest friend. He sighed. "Sorry. What is it?" he asked, his voice calmer. Another nudge informed him that the TARDIS had completed her repairs and refueling and was ready to leave Cardiff.

Not saying a word, the Doctor returned to the console room and inputted the necessary coordinates to return to New England. As he did so, a thought flitted through his mind. Perhaps being home would help Grace. He knew from experience how familiar surroundings could heal not only the body but also the mind and soul.

It took only a few minutes for the timeship to shift her position from one part of the world to the other. The slight jostling that came with rematerialization informed the Time Lord that they had arrived at their destination and a glance at the monitor confirmed that the flight had gone as planned.

The Doctor ran his hand through his hair, knowing that he needed to go out but not nearly in the mood to do so. Despite Grace being isolated of the Zero Room, which blocked out most of the connection, he could still feel hints of Grace's anxiety from the failed therapy session, the telepathic link they shared as husband and wife making it difficult for him to ignore the sensation. Taking a deep breath to cleanse his mind, he exhaled slowly and headed for the door, grabbing his overcoat and slipping it on as he did so.

He found that the TARDIS had landed in Grace's living room. The room was pristine, as if it were a showcase for the perfect New England home in the Hamptons. Closing the door behind him, he looked around for a moment. He couldn't help but smile as memories came unhindered to his mind.

The first time he ever walked into this room, he had just showered and dressed after waking in Grace's spare bedroom. Well, really it was after racing through the house to the TARDIS to tend to her, stopping a huon particle leak and saving the world in the process. He remembered the smile on Grace's face when she first saw him in his full outfit and not looking like death warmed over. At least, that was the turn of phrase she had used as she handed him a cup of hot tea, asking him if he ate and drank human foods. He couldn't help but laugh at her words as he assured her that not only did he eat and drink human foods, he thoroughly enjoyed them on a regular basis. Since that first cup of tea, there had been nothing but happy memories in that room. That is, until that fateful day they came home from their honeymoon to find Grace's parents horribly murdered.

Pushing that last memory to the back of his mind, he sniffed and then proceeded to go through the house. Deciding that he should start in Grace's bedroom, he collected those articles of clothing and keepsakes that he knew she would want. It wasn't that the TARDIS couldn't provide Grace's wardrobe needs, though; the Doctor just knew that she had her favorite outfits which she would not want to go without. He did the same with her bathroom and double-checked her spare bedroom and her storage closets before returning to the living room with two large suitcases worth of possessions.

"Where is she?" came a harsh male voice from the kitchen door.

The Doctor frowned, turning abruptly towards the voice. The frown was quickly replaced with a look of surprise at the sight of the speaker.

"Andrew!"

Grace's younger brother marched slowly towards the Time Lord, obviously upset. "Where's my sister? What have you done with her?"

The Gallifreyan raised his hand towards him in an attempt to calm him. "I know you are upset…"

"Upset?! Upset doesn't cover it! Three years ago, you appeared out of nowhere and, ever since then, you've been worming your way into Grace's life, making her fall in love with you, even convincing her to marry you! You killed our parents, you bastard! Did you kill Grace too?"

The Time Lord blinked with surprise at the accusation thrown at him. "Andrew, I did not kill your parents. Erik and Janet were very dear to me. And I swear to you that their deaths have already been avenged. As for Grace, she is very much alive and she's safe. I would never harm her."

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe the word of a terrorist?"

"What?!"

"I did my research on you, _Doctor_. I know who and what you are." He dug into his trouser pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, forcing it towards the Doctor to take. "A terrorist wanted by the British government."

The Doctor unfolded the paper slowly and looked at it. He held back a chuckle at what he saw. The paper was a news article printout from two years before and featured pictures of Jack, Martha, and him, declaring all three of them as terrorists. Of course, for the Doctor, the incident had happened six years ago, not two. But that's what happens when you're a time traveler. When the incident with the Toclofane and the Master had happened, the Time Lord had forced himself to remain silent and still, knowing that any action he might take would irreparably alter the timeline. Meeting yourself in your past was usually not a good thing.

"I knew I'd seen that Jack Harkness somewhere before," Andrew continued as the Doctor read the article, fascinated by what was in it. "And there was no one by the name of John Smith on staff at Cambridge University matching your description. The only person that came close was a teacher at some boy's school back in 1912. So, obviously you're using John Smith as an alias. Now, I'm asking one last time. What have you done to Grace?"

The Doctor raised his eyes towards him. "I'm not a terrorist, Andrew."

"The hell you aren't!" He glared at the Time Lord. "How do you explain your picture on that article?"

"So, you would rather believe an article written on the behest of former Prime Minister Harold Saxon, the madman who is personally responsible for the assassination of President Winters, rather than what you have seen and heard with your own eyes for the past three years." The Doctor paused for a moment. "You know me, Andrew. Do you honestly think that I'm a terrorist, using your sister for some nefarious reasons?"

"From what I found, it turns out I know absolutely nothing about you!" Andrew retaliated. "Every reference I came across concerning a man known as the Doctor showed that death follows him like a plague. And with every piece of research I did for this Doctor, you're there. The disappearance of the Royal Hope Hospital, the chaos at Lazarus Laboratories, the assassination of President Winters… You were probably in league with the Prime Minister! There are witnesses as well as video of you being at all three. And that's just for starters! "

The Doctor tossed the printout onto a nearby lamp table before tucking his hands into his pockets. "If you are so convinced that I really am a terrorist, why didn't you come armed? It isn't wise to confront a person you believe is a known murderer without some kind of precautions. For that matter, why did you come at all?"

"I want to know where my sister is!" he yelled. "I haven't seen her for over three months, the police are no help saying that there are no signs of foul play, and every time I come here that Harkness guy keeps me out and tells me she is unavailable. To me! Her brother! What the hell is that about, huh? I came by yesterday and there isn't even a sign that she's even been here for the past month! Where is she? Why won't you let me see her? What are you doing with her luggage?" He gestured to the TARDIS behind the Doctor. "And what the hell is a 1960s British police box doing in the living room when it wasn't there yesterday?" His voice reached a frustrated crescendo, as if the mysterious police box was merely the proverbial straw.

The Doctor was silent for a long moment, waiting for Andrew to calm enough for him to get a word in. When he was certain that the man would properly listen to him, he gestured a hand towards the couch. "I think we should sit for a moment."

"Tell me where Grace is!" Andrew demanded, ignoring his brother-in-law's offer.

The Time Lord's eyes grew dark with the younger man's stubbornness. "Sit down," he ordered.

Andrew started to protest but was immediately rendered silent by the look on the Time Lord's face. Quietly, he lowered himself onto the couch, the Doctor following a moment later.

"I need you to be quiet and listen. If you start throwing around accusations again, I'm leaving and, very likely, you will never see your sister again. And before you start, I'm not making a threat against her life and I am not holding her against her will nor have I manipulated her into being with me. Now, are you going to listen and remain rational and calm… or do I just leave?" Seeing Andrew give a slight nod, an uncertain expression tinting his face, the Doctor continued, deciding to take the chance.

For the next several minutes, the Doctor told Andrew about his history with Grace, starting with meeting her in San Francisco, moving to his crash landing in front of her house three years ago, explaining what happened at Erik and Janet's funeral reception as well as the events that followed up to present day. Andrew, for his part, did a remarkable job in holding his tongue, listening to the strange and unbelievable story that the Doctor was telling him.

"So, you're saying that you're an alien from another planet who travels around in an antique phone box and that my sister was physically and mentally raped by one of your people, a person who calls himself the Master... the same person I know as Harold Saxon?" he demanded, anger tingeing his voice. "And you honestly want me to believe this bullshit?"

"I have told you the truth, Andrew," the Doctor informed him bluntly.

"You're insane!" Andrew exclaimed, standing to move away from him.

"I can prove what I've told you. For starters, I have two hearts." Seeing the disbelief on Andrew's face, he stood and walked over to the bookcase on the other side of the room. Retrieving a small black case, he returned and handed the case over to his brother-in-law. "Grace's stethoscope. Use it."

Andrew hesitated, the case in his hands, before carefully opening it and taking out the stethoscope. Slowly, he put the earpieces in place and brought the small disc up to the left side of the Doctor's chest. He listened to the steady, if faster than normal, beat of his heart for a moment. The Doctor's hand gently took his and moved the instrument to the right side. The Time Lord watched with a slight smile as a stunned expression appeared on Andrew's face.

"It's got to be some kind of trick," the human protested.

"Test it on yourself, then."

He did as suggested before listening to the Gallifreyan's hearts once again. Swallowing tightly, He slowly backed away from the Doctor.

"Don't be frightened," the Time Lord told him calmly.

"Where's Grace?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"She's resting in my ship," the Doctor answered him, nodding towards the police box just behind Andrew.

Keeping the alien in front of him in his sights, Andrew cautiously moved over to the object in question. Peeking inside briefly, his eyes widened in astonishment. "It's bigger on the inside! Oh, my gawd, it's bigger on the inside! You're an alien! You're an honest to gawd alien!" Seeing the Doctor nod at his words, he swallowed. "And Grace is in there?"

"Yes."

"I want to see her."

"Very well," the Doctor agreed. He walked over and entered the TARDIS. "Come with me."

Andrew shook his head emphatically. "No way! I'm not going in there. It's… it's too weird. You bring her out here."

The Doctor hesitated. He exhaled slowly, considering Andrew's words. "Very well," he agreed again. "But remember that her mind is in a very fragile state. The room she is in now helps to stabilize her. Familiar surroundings might be able to help her but only under controlled conditions. She needs a calm encouraging environment." He paused to make sure that he was clearly understood. "I'll be right back with her."

Andrew paced as he waited for the Doctor to return with Grace, keeping an eye on the ship in case the Time Lord decided to trick him and take off with his sister still in his possession. A couple of minutes later, though, Andrew heard a small shaking voice come from the impossible ship.

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to see your brother Andrew," came the Doctor's response.

"But it hurts!" she protested with a slight sob.

"I know," was the soft, sympathetic response. "But this is to help you, my love," he assured her. "It's a good thing."

The two stepped over the threshold of the TARDIS' door and into the living room. The moment they were within sight, however, Andrew hurried over.

"Grace!" he exclaimed loudly. "Thank God you're all right!" He abruptly pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

Grace screamed in fright and pain, pushing him away to find a corner to withdraw into. "Get away from me! Stay away!" she yelled.

"Grace, it's Andrew," her brother insisted, following her. "It's me!"

"Andrew, back away from her," the Doctor ordered, concern for Grace's well-being growing with every step Andrew made towards her.

"No! She's my sister! You stay out of this!"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" she repeated, her voice straining as Andrew came closer. "DOCTOR! HELP ME!"

The Doctor didn't need any further word. Quickly grabbing Andrew's arm, he forcibly pulled the man to the other end of the room.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Helping my wife, which is more than I can say you've been doing," the Time Lord answered darkly. "I told you her mind is in a fragile state and what do you do? You rush at her like an oncoming train! Is it any wonder she panicked? In her mind, just now, you were the man who raped her and you were coming back for more." He gazed hard into his eyes. "She was raped by a powerful telepath who altered her sense of reality, something I'm trying very hard to reverse and you are not helping."

"I'm her brother!" he protested.

"Then start acting the part instead of the part of an overly zealous rookie police constable," the Doctor berated him. "She needs support, not an interrogation."

Andrew was again going to retaliate verbally when a soft sob caught his attention. The two men looked over at the crying woman who had curled in on herself, trying desperately to press herself into as small a position as possible. Her position against the wall made the gentle roundness of her belly all that more noticeable, causing Andrew's eyes to widen.

"She's pregnant?" he questioned. He turned his head towards the Doctor. "She's pregnant!"

"You can relax. The child is mine, not the rapist's."

"You got her pregnant?!"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at his tone. "Husbands and wives do have the prerogative of bringing a new life into the universe. In fact, the same act used to express one's feelings for their spouse is primarily derived from the instinct to procreate." He paused, not needing to read Andrew's mind to know what he was thinking. "I didn't marry her because she was pregnant. She's pregnant because we shared something very private and very special on our honeymoon." His eyes shone with emotion as he spoke.

Seeing the expression on the alien's face, Andrew's own softened. "You really do love her."

"Until the day she dies," he replied softly. "And it will break my hearts when I lose her but… she's worth it."

The statement caused Andrew to blink in confusion. It was certainly an odd way of speaking but he let it go, figuring that the Doctor's English slipped, understandable considering that it was very likely a foreign language to him. The latter supposition was confirmed when the Doctor, exhaling slowly, approached Grace once again, hoping that she had calmed enough to him to attend to her without causing her further anxiety.

"_Grace laharni maha_," he murmured, crouching in front of her and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Can you hear me? Andrew's here. He wants to see you."

"Blood," she whispered. "So much blood. Mom? Dad?" She cried, her eyes finding the Doctor's. "Oh, gawd, you killed them. Why?" She shook her head, a terrified look on her face. "No… no, please! Please, Thete! PLEASE!" Her hands shot up to cradle her head as she screamed at an agony that was only in her mind.

The Doctor hurried to her side, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. "It's over," he whispered, rocking her gently despite her struggling against him. "You're safe." His words, however, seemed to only frighten her more, her struggles becoming more pronounced.

The Doctor swallowed tightly as Grace tried to break free of his hold. He could feel her panic and confusion running through his own mind, stronger than it had been since Shada. The sensation was terrifying, nearly paralyzing him, making it hard for him to even move. There was no way that he could get her back into the Zero Room on his own.

He looked up at his brother-in-law, who was watching the scene with a mixture of conflicting emotions. "I need your help," he told him, controlling his voice to prevent it from shaking.

As if realizing that he'd just been spoken to, the younger man straightened noticeably. "What can I do?"

"Take Grace back into my ship. Through the inner doors, first door on your left." Seeing the uncertain look on Andrew's face, he focused on his eyes. "Please. She'll be better in there. I promise." Without waiting for the younger man to agree, he spoke gently into Grace's ear. "Andrew's going to take you back to the Zero Room."

Not getting any response from her other than further struggling, he kissed her temple before releasing her into her brother's care. He watched as Andrew took firm hold of her and pulled her into the TARDIS. Then, knowing that Grace was in good hands, he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

Taking slow deep breaths, he forced his mind to block out the intense emotions he was feeling. His own frustrations at his lack of progress in helping Grace coupled with the link he shared with his wife was making it increasingly difficult for the Time Lord to remain calm. He was thankful that Andrew had taken Grace back to the Zero Room without question. Well, without voicing the questions he knew were running through his mind. The Doctor didn't think he could handle an interrogation at the moment, not when nausea was starting to take hold and he felt as if he were about to expel the last thing he ate.

"She's getting worse," he muttered mostly to himself. "Why is she getting worse? She should be getting better. The Zero Room should be helping her. What's wrong? What's making her worse?"

Even as he voiced his concern, Grace's emotions faded from his mind, telling him that she was safely inside the Zero Room. He sighed gratefully and instantly felt guilty for it. He shouldn't be happy that he couldn't feel his wife's emotions. It was a fundamental part of their union to share everything with each other, whether it was a possession or a thought. To actually want to be removed from that intimacy was tantamount to a shunning, something that the Doctor did not want to do to Grace ever.

"Who is Thete?"

The Doctor's eyes snapped open at the question, meeting Andrew's as he stood over him. He didn't have the chance to answer when Andrew spoke again.

"Geez, John. You look like death warmed over."

A small smile graced the Doctor's lips at his words. "That phrase must run in the family. I'll be better soon."

Andrew let the comment pass, despite the paleness of his brother-in-law's face. "So, who is he? Is he the one with hurt my sister?"

"No," the Doctor replied. "Yes. It's complicated."

"I'm starting to figure out that everything is complicated around you," Andrew replied. "So, who is he?"

The Doctor took a deep breath. "Thete… well… Thete's me. Well, it was my nickname at the Academy anyway. The Master used her memories and altered them so that she would believe I was the one who hurt her. He used my nickname and my image against her. I think she's trying to cope with it by distinguishing me from those altered memories. So, in her mind, the man who raped her is Thete. And I'm John or the Doctor."

"Makes sense in a sort of convoluted way." He tucked his hands into his pockets, suddenly looking embarrassed. "Listen… I'm sorry about what I said before. I was just worried about Grace and with you and her missing and seeing that Harkness guy on the same page as you and reading all those sightings of you around these incidents… I jumped to conclusions and I really should have known better."

"It's okay," the Doctor assured him. "Happens to me all the time. But you should know I am the same man you met on Christmas Day three years ago, the same one you've nearly beat at Trivial Pursuit every year since. Nothing has changed there."

"Grace has changed," Andrew contradicted. He looked back towards the impossible ship where his sister was resting. "She really needs serious help. She needs to be in a hospital. Maybe UNIT has facilities for this sort of thing. Heavens know there have been enough alien problems in the last several years to warrant people needing psychiatrists."

The Doctor shook his head. "If she goes into an Earth mental hospital, she will never get out. Even an organization such as UNIT, who has had previous dealings with the Master, would be completely out of their league on this." He took a deep breath. "This is something I have to take care of myself."

"You were right," Andrew put in after a long pause. "That room did help her. At least, a little. She stopped struggling almost the moment we went in there and she got this look of relief on her face…" He hesitated for a moment. "She asked me to sell the house, said she never wanted to step into it ever again. Being in here, where she found Mom and Dad… I can't really blame her."

"I will take good care of your sister," the Doctor promised. "I will make her better."

"But what if you can't?" Andrew questioned. He waited for an answer from the Time Lord. Not receiving one, and noting the saddened expression on the latter's face, he bit his bottom lip for a moment. "That never even occurred to you, did it? You are certain that you can help her."

"Yes," came the authoritative reply.

There was a long silence between the men. Then, extending his hand, Andrew helped the Doctor to his feet.

"I think we had better finish the packing you started," he told the Gallifreyan. "I'll sell whatever is left and put the proceeds in a trust fund for when you and Grace return. Someday."

The Doctor smiled gently at his words. "Thank you," he said genuinely.

Together, they moved from room to room, deciding what they thought Grace would want to keep and making sure that it was safely placed in the TARDIS. Once the deed was done, the two stood just outside the TARDIS, an uneasy silence between them.

"So…" Andrew broke the quiet. "You're going to leave?"

"Yeah," the Doctor replied. "Probably find some quiet planet where I can help Grace and she can recover without distractions."

"And then what?"

"I'll leave it up to Grace. If she wants to return, then we'll return." He gave him a small smile. "At the very least, we'll be by for an occasional visit."

Andrew returned the smile. "Christmas," he insisted. "I still haven't beaten you at Trivial Pursuit, Doctor."

"And you can just continue trying," the Time Lord told him teasingly. He extended his hand to him. "Goodbye, Andrew."

The latter accepted the hand and shook it. Then, stepping back, he watched as the Doctor stepped into his ship. A moment later, a grating sound filled the room and a wind seemed to come from out of nowhere as the TARDIS slowly pulsed in and out of view.

"Son of a bitch," Andrew murmured with awe. Taking a breath, he mentally began reviewing all that needed to be done as he exited the house.


	25. Chapter 23: Myths and Legends

**Chapter 23**

There was degradation in the cells. It wasn't significant enough to cause a miscarriage but it certainly was enough to cause birth defects, the mostly likely being weak hearts and possible susceptibility to disease. What really concerned the Doctor was that he was having difficulty correcting the degradation and that, in turn, made him worried about whether or not the baby would survive. If he didn't find a way to at least slow the degradation, the chances of more severe birth defects would go up and miscarriage could be possible.

Leaning back slightly on his lab stool, the Doctor took off his specs and tucked them away in his inside jacket pocket. It really didn't make sense that there would be such a drastic change in the baby's condition. Only a week before, both he and Martha had confirmed that the baby was healthy with no signs of cellular or DNA degradation. If the change had come about more slowly, the Time Lord would have theorized that he and Grace's DNA weren't as compatible as they originally supposed, which would have the Doctor making some very complicated adjustments to the baby's genetic structure, an act in and of itself not entirely guaranteed to provide positive results. But this current change having come so abruptly indicated that something external was negatively influencing fetal development, a development that had nothing to do with DNA compatibility.

His thoughts immediately drifted to the most likely cause of the problem, in his opinion: the Master. Grace had been in his hands for four months, plenty of time to alter the baby's genetics to have the cells start collapsing at a certain level of development. It definitely would fit with the Master's twisted mind to hurt the Doctor by harming his unborn child. Then again, something would have shown up in that first examination if the Master had done anything to the baby, even if it was just to start the downward spiral the child was on.

Begrungingly, the Doctor realized that something else had to have influenced the current turn of events. He started to run the possibilities through his head. The Zero Room? He negated that immediately. The Zero Room was designed to rejuvenate and heal. If anything, it would help, not harm, the baby. Grace's mental state? Possible, especially if the baby had made a telepathic connection with Grace, as most Gallifreyan fetuses do with their mothers. The therapy sessions…

The Doctor froze at that thought. Each session had been traumatic for both him and Grace. He hadn't even considered the impact they might have had on the baby. He mentally berated himself for his stupidity. What kind of a father was he to not even think of his own child's mental health through all of this? If the baby had made the telepathic link to Grace, it would explain why Grace seemed to be getting worse rather than better, despite the healing environment of the Zero Room. The stress of two minds in her own human mind would have been overwhelming.

The last session – the fourth since Grace's rescue from Shada - had only been the day before. Like the three before it, it hadn't had any positive effect on her. Just the opposite, in fact. Grace reacted violently to the session. Grabbing the sonic screwdriver from the Doctor's inside pocket, she had pressed it hard against his shoulder, turning it on before he could remove the tool from her hands. As a result, he had a deep tissue sonic disruption bruise that he knew would bother him for a couple of weeks. It was ironic that he'd just freed himself of the daily bandaging he'd had to give himself thanks to the Master's whippings.

Right now, though, the bruise and the now healed whipping scars were the least of his worries. His mind was reviewing each session and comparing them, looking for a pattern but praying that there wasn't one. Unfortunately, the pattern was all too clear. With each session, Grace had become increasingly more aggitated, something that might have affected the baby's development.

He swallowed tightly. It still wasn't definitive, though. He needed to check on the baby personally and lab tests were not going to give him the answers he needed. With a studied look at the most recent results, he sniffed and stood from his stool. Leaving the lab, he immediately went to the Zero Room and entered, his mind racing with trepidation of what he might discover.

Grace looked at him, fear in her eyes. "Please, no," she pleaded. "My head is pounding. It's so loud. So very loud." She carefully ran her hands across her face, reflecting the truth of her words.

"No more sessions," he told her gently. "At least, not with me." He slowly went and sat in front of her. He avoided looking at her for a moment as he tried to form the words needed to explain. "Grace…" he started, raising his eyes to meet hers. "You're not getting better. You're getting worse. And it's my fault." He took a breath. "You can feel the baby in your mind. I know that now. And the strain of having two additional minds to your own in your head…"

Without permission, he gently placed his hand against her belly. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, clearing his mind. A moment later, he looked up at Grace's, tears shining in his brown orbs. "I've hurt the baby," he confessed, his hearts tightening painfully. "The baby's in danger and it's my fault."

"What did you do to my baby?!" she screamed at him, shoving his wounded shoulder.

He bit back a cry, swallowing tightly. "The therapy sessions," he finally said carefully, aware that her actions were a reflection of her unstable mental state. "The emotional and physical strain on you has brought on developmental problems. Birth defects. And I can't fix them."

"You handicapped my baby?!" She slapped him hard. "You bastard! You said you'd make me better! You promised! But all you've done is hurt me and my baby! You're worse than the Master! At least I knew when he was raping me! He didn't pretend to be helping me!" She scrambled to get as far from him as possible. "I hate this place! I hate my life! I wish I were dead!" She glowered at him. "And I hate you!"

"I know," he whispered, letting the tears fall.

"Why, Thete?" she demanded, her words showing how her mind was slipping. "Why are you doing this to me? I love you." She shook violently with her conflicting emotions.

"I love you too," the Doctor replied. Slowly, he stood up.

Grace screamed in terror. "Don't hurt me! Please don't hurt me! Oh, gawd, please!" She gasped in pain, her hands cradling her head as she curled into a fetal position. "It hurts. Please… everything hurts."

The Gallifreyan closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip. "Everything?" he questioned in a normal tone. Opening his eyes, he watched as his wife cringed at the volume of his voice. "The Zero Room isn't helping as it should anymore," he noted mostly to himself, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "Oh, Grace… I've done this to you. Forgive me."

Walking cautiously to her, he bent down to delicately kiss her forehead. His hearts ached as she pulled quickly away from him, sobbing not only from the pain the kiss caused but also from the hurt in her heart born of the belief that her husband didn't return her love.

Stepping out of the room, the Doctor found that the nauseous feeling he'd been experiencing on and off since the brief stop at Grace's former residence had returned with a vengeance. He knew it was directly tied to Grace's mental well-being and the link he shared with her, a fact confirmed over and over again since the first time he'd felt it a week ago. This time, though, the walls of the Zero Room failed to block the intensity of Grace's emotions from his mind.

Swallowing tightly, he moved away from the door in the hopes that distance would aleviate some of the symptoms and allow him to regain some control of himself. He mentally thanked the TARDIS for keeping an eye on the situation as his stomach protested against him, forcing him to hurry into a bathroom that suddenly appeared on his right.

Once he had emptied the contents of his stomach in the toilet, he sat against the nearest wall, listening to the automatic recycling system clean the mess he had just made. As he rested his head rested against the wall, the stress of the last two and a half months (or four months, depending on who you spoke to) became too much for him to continue to bear.

He didn't know how long he sat in that bathroom, sobbing at the agony in his hearts. He did know that, having spent every last drop of salt water he could spare without suffering debilitating dehydration, he had exhausted himself.

"Lord Rassilon, what am I going to do?" he whispered. He sighed at his own words. What point was there hoping for guidance from a person who no longer existed, not even as a bioelectrical impulse in the Matrix? The Matrix itself didn't even exist anymore. There was only him, the Master, and – now – the child growing in Grace's womb. And he certainly couldn't rely on the Master for guidance, especially since he was the cause of the current trouble.

The Doctor closed his eyes, letting the coolness of the bathroom floor seep in through his clothes. As he sat there, allowing his exhaustion to lull him into a half-sleep, he found himself softly singing.

_Shades of Black and Shades of White_

_Do not let Shades be in your sight_

_In their beauty you will find_

_Madness will complete your mind_

_If you're pure of hearts you'll be_

_Blessed by them most graciously_

The Doctor sat up abruptly as he realized what he was doing, the rest of the ancient children's song coming automatically from his lips.

_Oh, Elysian Fields, guide my way_

_To see the Shades this very day_

_Let them see my hearts are pure_

_That their beauty I may endure_

_In Elysian Fields I will find_

_Health and life and piece of mind_

He blinked at the lyrics that had come from his lips. He'd known the song ever since he was a child, had sung it with other children as they played games. Or rather, in the Doctor's case, as he watched other children play games. For some reason, he'd always found solace in singing it, as if he were hoping the Shades would appear and fix him, make him more like other children and not an outsider like he had always been. He only had one true friend during those years. It was a sad irony that said friend was now the one who caused his current dilemma. But why had the song come to mind? The Shades were a well-known legend on Gallifrey. Perhaps…

He shook his head. "Utter nonsense. It's a child's nursery rhyme, a fantasy like…" _The Toclofane_, his mind finished. He forced the thought out immediately, not wanting to remember that horrible year.

The thought did bring up a valid point, though. It was quite possible that the events of that year reverberated back through time and became part of Time Lord folklore. It rather made sense, actually, that the Master would be influenced by the myth of the terrifying creatures while, at the same time, be the creator of the nightmarish myth. In fact, over the centuries, he had found many supposed myths had their origins in real life. Santa Claus, the Loss Ness Monster, Minotaurs, Vampires… Werewolves… he'd encountered them all.

"What do I have to lose?" he commented as he got on his feet. He knew it was an act of sheer desperation but it was better than the alternative of watching his wife continue down the path of madness.

"Elysia… Elysia…" he muttered to himself as he walked through the corridors, thinking. "How do you go to Elysia anyway? How do you go to a mythical planet?" He thought about the children's song. He stopped abruptly as a thought came to him. "It is a myth so there would be books about it," he said, his eyes wide.

He made his way to the TARDIS' library and started searching the shelves, pulling down book after book before settling into one of the leather reading chairs that adorned the room. For hours he sat and read every bit of information that he could find that referenced Elysia or the Shades.

The Marsulians' myths said that Elysia - called Elitoa - was a land of mist where the dead went to prepare themselves for their eternal fates. The Marsulians believed that judgment came from the mist itself. If those who passed through Elitoa were found guilty in life, they would be dispersed into the mist to be consumed. The innocent were transformed into light and released into the universe to explore, a form of paradise for an extremely inquisitive race. On the other hand, the Ancient Greeks viewed the Elysian Fields as a realm where the honored dead resided with no cares. The stories of how to reach Elysium varied so much, however, that there didn't seem to be a definitive belief. One might cross the River Styx (or was it the River Acheron) to reach Tartarus, a place where the dead feel no emotion and are in a state of confusion and mental oblivion (or was it to reach the Acherusian Lake, a deep possibly bottomless body of water that might have torrential waves), to be judged by three great kings (or was it by the people whom one had wronged) before being allowed to enter Elysium or condemned to Tartarus (which is not the same as nor is a part of the same myth as the Tartarus previously mentioned and may also be an entity, possibly a demi-god) until they are pardoned (or reside for eternity depending on one's beliefs and/or the condemned's crimes).

Despite the disparately different myths, though, most seemed to follow, or at least were distorted versions of, the Gallifreyan legend of Elysia. The name of the land and of the people who lived there varied from culture to culture, planet to planet, but the stories themselves were extremely similar. They had even become part of Earth's mythology, overriding those of Ancient Greece, by the end of the 50th Century. That was the reason Jack had known about Elysia and had suggested it to the Doctor as a possible means of helping Grace.

Elysia was, according to belief, a lost planet where the Shades resided. The Shades were a people so beautiful that the sight of them could drive the viewer insane. If one found the Elysian Fields, the Shades would read one's hearts to determine their purity. If the person was honest and pure, he or she would be taken under the care of the Shades of White and provided with all that they required, allowing them to stay in the Elysian Fields where there was no sickness or death, only peace and tranquility. If that person's hearts were not pure, he or she would be taken by the Shades of Black and exiled from Elysia, never to be allowed in for the rest of eternity, with the possibility of being cursed by the Shades in both body and mind.

The Doctor remembered how, in his youth, he and others would accuse an eccentric Time Lord or Civilian of being "cursed by the Shades". Although his parents had berated him whenever he made such accusations, they had never negated his beliefs in Elysia as other parents had done with their children, allowing him to figure out on his own that the planet was only a myth. His belief in the Shades and in Elysia faded as he grew older, especially after he entered the Academy and was taught to rely on empirical evidence as opposed to the superstitions he was now hoping would help him find a way to heal his wife.

The problem, it appeared, wasn't defining the Elysian Fields, as almost every culture saw it as a kind of paradisiacal place or a place where one is judged or both. The problem was finding how to get to them, something none of the myths could tell with any sort of similarity or clarity.

Frustrated with his lack of progress, the Doctor kicked a pile of books that were just beside his feet. He watched the stack collapse, falling into a jumbled mountain of discord. His eyes focused on one particular book. He couldn't recall exactly where he had procured the book. He'd bought so many different books over the many centuries of his life, sometimes simply because he liked the illustration on the cover. Whatever the reason for his buying the book in question, however, it wasn't for a pretty picture on the front.

The book was leather-bound. Its gold-etched title, written in calligraphy, declared that it was about "Myths and Legends of the Dark Times", encouraging the reader's imagination. At one time, the Doctor was sure, its cover had been immaculate and smooth; now, however, it was riddled with cracks and had faded from loving abuse.

"Cracks," he muttered as he examined the book from a short distance. "Cracks," he repeated, as if the word itself should sound familiar to him but somehow didn't. His eyes widened suddenly as he jumped to his feet. "Cracks!" he exclaimed. "Yes! Cracks in the fabric of reality, spreading throughout the universe, touching every civilization!" He quickly ran his hand through his hair. "That's why the stories are similar but, at the same time, so different! Different civilizations creating similar myths based on a universal truth!" He paused, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Find the hub of the cracks in reality and you find Elysia." After a moment, he blinked, confusion flittering across his face. "How'd I know that? That's one heck of a leap to conclusions based on very little reliable information." Still, he knew in his hearts that he had found the answer he was looking for.

Hurrying to the console room, he quickly started inputting calculations into the TARDIS. "Just need to program you to look for a certain kind of spatial anomaly and follow it back to its source," the Doctor muttered to the time ship before standing back with a broad grin. "There we go! _Molto bene_! You just let me know when you've found something and…" The grin faded quickly as the Time Lord stopped, his eyes staring into nothingness. "Grace…" he whispered. "NO!"

Mere seconds later, he rushed into the Zero Room, panic clear in his eyes. He halted abruptly at the sight before him, shock playing over his features.

Grace lay motionless on her mattress in the middle of the room. A long strip of cloth was tied around her throat so tightly that the skin around it was red with irritation. Her feet were bound together just as tightly and around her wrists were simple slipknots, plainly showing the Doctor that the bindings were self-inflicted. It didn't take the mind of a one thousand year old Time Lord to figure out that Grace had decided to kill herself via asphyxiation.

The Doctor ran to her side, ignoring the bindings on her hands and feet, immediately trying to remove the makeshift rope around her neck. He growled in anger when he found the knot too tight to be easily undone. Rapidly, he dug into his jacket and retrieved his sonic screwdriver, adjusted the settings, and pressed it against the cloth. Slowly, the fabric started to burn away due to increased vibrations of his atomic structure.

"Come on!" he shouted impatiently, knowing that every second counted. The moment the cloth weakened enough, he dropped the sonic and ripped the offending material before throwing it quickly away. Lowering his ear to her mouth, he listened for the precious sound of breathing… and heard nothing.

"No!" he cried, his chest hurting with repressed panic. Laying her quickly on her back despite the binding around her wrists, he insufflated her via mouth to mouth before quickly gathering her into his arms and rushing from the Zero Room to the medbay. "Don't you dare, Grace!" he berated as he moved. "Don't you dare leave me! Don't you dare give up, not when we're so close!"

Laying her on a table, the Doctor immediately put a bag respirator over her mouth and nose, letting the TARDIS take control of ventilating her while he listened to her heart. The rhythm was slow but not enough to warrant defibrillation, causing the Time Lord to exhale with a hint of relief. Still, he knew he had to get her heart rate back up and get Grace to start breathing on her own quickly. Otherwise, he was left with the necessity of intubating her, something he really didn't want to have to do considering the risks.

After giving her the medication necessary to bring her heart back up to a normal rhythm, he removed the bindings on her wrists and ankles and made sure that blood was flowing into the deprived appendages. Even as he did so, he continued to check her respiration and heart rate, grateful that she had started to breathe without the aid of the respirator. He quickly checked on the condition of her throat. He was again relieved to find his worst fears for naught. While the external damage to Grace's neck was quite noticeable, there was only some minor bruising to the trachea and no damage to the larynx or her carotid artery which meant that extensive surgery would not be needed, though a great deal of rest, hydration, and soft foods would be in order for a while.

Finally assured that Grace herself was no longer in immediate danger, the Doctor turned his focus to the unborn child in his wife's womb. As he feared, the child's condition had worsened from the stress Grace had placed on her body. The Time Lord could no longer guarantee that a miscarriage wouldn't happen and the chances that the baby would be born with severe birth defects were now assured.

As he sat near the medical bed, watching over his beloved's recovery and mourning his child's eventual death – for he had no idea how he would be able to save the baby now - he couldn't help but think of what had transpired in the Zero Room. The facts and evidence before him allowed his mind to recreate the event with horrifying clarity.

Grace had ripped her thin cover into long strips, twisting them into crude ropes. She tied loops on each end of one rope, creating slipknots that would hold her hands in place when the time came. She then tied her ankles tightly together so that she wouldn't be able to escape from the fate she had decided upon. Taking the last length of rope, she deliberately and with great calculation wrapped it around her throat, knotting it tightly behind her head. She had seconds to slide her wrists into the slipknots before her natural survival instincts kicked in, causing her to struggle to free herself from her own trap. The initial cut-off of oxygen to her lungs had caught the Gallifreyan's attention and brought him running to save her life. If it hadn't been for the telepathic link they shared as husband and wife, the Doctor knew that he would now be preparing funeral rites for Grace Smith and their unborn child.

It was nearly an hour before Grace slowly opened her eyes, whimpering slightly at the pain in her throat. A moment later, her blue eyes, puffy from minor oxygen deprivation, met her husband's brown pain-filled ones.

"I want to die," she rasped out.

"You don't want to die," he answered somberly with a shake of his head. "You want to be healed. And you want our baby to live." He stood slowly, looking down on her with pity. "But now… Now I doubt that either of those is possible."

A tear slowly trickled down Grace's temple. "Our baby…" she whispered. "What have I done? I killed our baby, didn't I?" The look on despair in her husband's eyes was all the answer she needed. She sobbed, clinging to the Doctor. As she did so, she winced noticeably. "The pain… the drums… He's there. He's here behind my eyes, hurting me, raping me… I can feel the universe and it burns. Oh, gawd, it burns!" She bit her lip as more tears wetted first her temples then her hair. "Please, John. Please kill me."

The Doctor wrapped his arms carefully around her and closed his eyes tightly at her plead, feeling his hearts break and knowing that his brave amazing Grace had finally cracked completely under the pressure she'd been enduring for far too long. How could he ignore such heartfelt wishes from the woman he loved so dearly?

"I can't," he whispered, his own emotional turmoil showing on his face. "Please, don't ask me to do that again. I can't kill you."

"Please!" she begged. "Please! I can't bear it anymore!" Her eyes suddenly widened, terror filling her eyes at the images that ran through her mind. "NO!" she screamed, frantically scrambling off the table in an attempt to escape the monsters of her madness. She was stopped from running to the nearest corner by the IV still in her arm and the firm grip of the Doctor as he physically put her back on the table and held her in place.

"Grace, calm down," the Gallifreyan ordered firmly, not releasing his grip on her.

It was plainly obvious, though, that she couldn't understand his words as she continued to fight against him, screaming despite the lack of real danger and the rawness of her own throat. Seeing no other choice, the Doctor quickly secured her to the table before procuring a sedative and administering it through the IV. Grace was soon unconscious, though it took several minutes for the drug to have full effect on the panicked woman.

The Gallifreyan took several slow calming breaths, his emotions plainly visible on his face as he leaned over the sleeping frame of the owner of his hearts.

"I'm sorry, _kardatare maha_," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. "This is for your own protection." Delicately, as if scared to break her, he brushed the hair from her face before slowing and deliberately strapping her to the medical couch. Then, pausing to make sure that she was safe from harming herself further, he gently kissed her lips. "I love you," he whispered. "I will save you. I promise."

With a heavy heart, he slowly walked out of the medbay, hoping with all his being that he hadn't just make an oath he couldn't keep.


	26. Chapter 24: Trial of a Time Lord

**Chapter 24**

There was a severe storm raging just outside the doors of the TARDIS, making the Doctor wonder if there was something wrong with the program he'd inputted to find the anomaly he'd been searching for. The planet the time ship had materialized on certainly didn't match any description of Elysia he'd read during his research. Just the opposite, in fact. Whereas Elysia had been said to be beautiful, calm and peaceful, this planet was dead, turbulent and blatantly dangerous. The atmosphere was only barely breathable. The winds gusted up to a hundred miles per hour, sending dust and rocks swirling like miniature tornadoes. And yet, as the Gallifreyan double-checked his calculations and the results that came from them, there was no doubt that the anomaly was less than fifty yards from the TARDIS.

He exhaled slowly as he read the data one more time. Every piece of information he studied told him that it was far too dangerous to step out the TARDIS doors, especially with Grace in his arms. And yet, though he didn't understand why, his hearts were telling him that no harm would come to either of them despite what all his senses were telling him. It was a very strange feeling for his instincts to go completely against what he could see with both his eyes and his extraordinary time-sense. The only word he could come up with to describe the feeling was faith. He just _knew_ they would be safe in the maelstrom outside the TARDIS.

Taking a deep breath to gather his courage, he moved through the corridors and into the medical bay. There, lying in a near catatonic state, was Grace. Since her last outburst, she'd gone completely quiet, obviously lost inside her own mind. Every once in a while, her eyes would widen in fear but no sound would escape her lips. The only indication that the Doctor had that his wife was even in the room was the constant screaming he heard in his own mind, a noise so engulfing that it was taking a great deal of concentration to keep it from overwhelming him and sending him down the same path to insanity that his beloved had already gone. He knew now, without any doubts, that if Elysia really was just a myth and that it didn't exist, he would go mad with Grace and the last act he would perform before lunacy overtook him would be to send the TARDIS to an isolated planet where all three of them would spend the rest of their natural lives, for however short they might be.

The Doctor wasn't ready to go down that path quite yet, however. Going to his wife, he carefully touched her arm, causing her to turn her head towards the sensation. Leaning over her, he whispered his love of her into her ear before carefully lifting her from the medical couch and onto her feet. His mind instantly blazed with the agony he was causing her, making him hesitate for a moment. Damping down the pain in his mind, he held her closer to him as he guided her through the TARDIS, her legs moving automatically to the gentle prodding.

With only a glance at the console itself, he passed through the console room, ignoring the concerned warning the time ship was sending him. Cautiously opening the main doors, he peered out for a moment before stepping out, helping Grace to follow him.

Immediately, the Doctor pulled Grace tightly into his arms and tucked her head into his chest as he turned his back again a hard gust of wind that abruptly attacked them. He screamed as rocks and dust pummeled his body while his mind once again burned with the pain his wife was silently enduring. The wind died down quickly enough, leaving the two of them – mostly the Time Lord - covered with a thin layer of dirt.

"Are you all right?" he questioned Grace. Not getting an answer but noting that her breathing was slowly down, he sighed with relief and, protectively holding her, started guiding her towards the anomaly.

The journey was a long one, despite the relatively short distance between the TARDIS and the irregularity. The Doctor had to stop their progress regularly to act as a barrier between the miniature sand storms and Grace, the rocks that pelted against his back and head making him ache and slowly draining him of his strength. His mind screamed at him for his stupidity in leaving the TARDIS with such conditions outside but he continued to press forward, knowing that, although his back felt like it had a thousand needles stuck in it, he was relatively unharmed. The only real problem was his left shoulder, which was still healing from the sonic disruption Grace had inflicted on him in her madness.

By the time they reached the singularity on the barren planet, the Time Lord was thoroughly exhausted and, from what he could see, so was Grace. Both were covered with a thick coating of dirt, though Grace seemed less affected by the hostile environment than the Doctor.

"We're here," he whispered to her before regarding their goal with disconcertion.

The anomaly indeed fit the definition of the word. There were no words that the Gallifreyan could come up with in any language to describe what he was looking at. A large misshapen oily black hole about the size of a doorway stood before them, beckoning to the Time Lord yet, at the same time, sending shivers of terror through his spine. He'd felt a similar sensation when he had gazed on the Dalek void ship that had broken through into reality at Canary Wharf. He also felt it every time he looked at Jack Harkness. Just like the void ship and Jack Harkness, the irregularity before him shouldn't exist but did. Or did it? That was the big difference between the void ship, Jack, and the anomaly before him. His Time Lord senses were telling him that it both existed and didn't exist at all. He didn't think he would find an impossibility greater than Captain Jack Harkness but, obviously, he did.

He stood there in front of the hole, frozen by its inconceivability, holding his wife close to him as dirt and rocks swirled around them. He thought that perhaps this was the end, that he would go mad with Grace right then and there, when he heard his name whispered into his mind. Not the name he had gone by for the last millennia, that he had given himself when he graduated the Academy with barely-passing grades that his teachers knew didn't reflect his full potential. But rather the name that had been bequeathed to him at birth, the name that only two other people in the whole universe knew; one of them was cowering in his arms while the other was trapped on a prison planet on the other side of the galaxy.

"Who are you?" he questioned, looking around despite not sensing another being nearby. "Where are you?"

_Come to us, child,_ the voice summoned. _Come to us and let us see the purity of your hearts._

The Doctor swallowed tightly, realizing that the words in his head came from the onyx colored expanse, the words spoken revealing the identity of the speaker. "You're the Shades," he stated, his voice shaking slightly.

_Come and let us see their purity, _they called out, repeating his name as they did so.

He pulled Grace a little closer to him. Kissing her forehead, he took a deep breath and, praying to Rassilon that he wasn't making the biggest mistake he ever made in all his lives, stepped into the anomaly. Darkness engulfed the two and, in an instant, the Doctor felt Grace being torn from his hold, leaving him alone and terrified for her well-being. He cried out for her but his voice didn't carry any further than his own range of hearing. There was no sense of dimension or time and the Time Lord was immediately reminded of his journey into his beloved's mind, a journey that had confirmed how extensive the Master's abuse of her had been.

"Grace!" he called out again, begging to hear her respond.

"Welcome, Doctor," came a female voice from behind, startling him.

Turning quickly, he gasped at the sight before him. "Impossible," he whispered in denial. Literally the moment he turned around, he found himself in a Gallifreyan High Court. And not just any court but the exact one he had been in himself centuries before. Everything was exactly as he remembered it – the Valeyard, the Grand Inquisitor the room itself… everything, right down to the jury sitting behind the Grand Inquisitor. "Impossible!" he reiterated emphatically. "You're all dead! All of you!"

"Your tendencies towards theatrics has not diminished," the Grand Inquisitor – the woman who had welcomed him – said with a hint of disappointment in her voice. "Nevertheless, now that you are here, we may proceed."

The Doctor looked around the room quickly, still trying to figure out whether or not what he was seeing actually existed and, if it did, how that was even possible. "Proceed? Proceed with what?"

"Your trial, of course," she told him bluntly. She turned her head towards the other side of the room where a man dressed in black judicial robes stood waiting. "Valeyard, please present the charges to the Court."

"Of course, Sagacity," came the reply, causing the Doctor to turn his head towards the speaker. He swallowed tightly at the sight. "It's exactly like that trial," he whispered, watching as the person who had prosecuted – and had attempted to kill – him before lift a datapad to read from it.

"As per custom, I shall recite the least of the charges before continuing to the gravest," the Valeyard started. "The Time Lord known as the Doctor is hereby charged with the following: shirking his responsibilities to his fellow Time Lords by abandoning his seat of Lord President of Gallifrey…"

"Where is Grace?" the Doctor demanded, interrupting the Valeyard's recitation.

The Inquisitor gave him a glare. "I know you have little respect for this Court, Doctor, as you have blatantly shown the last time you were before us. However, such disregard will not be tolerated this time. You will have your chance to speak when it is appropriate."

"Where is my wife?" the Time Lord persisted, his voice rising noticeably. "Tell me!"

"Doctor, if you cannot restrain yourself, you will be restrained forcibly. Do I make myself clear?"

"And if you do not answer my question, you're going to HAVE to forcibly restrain to prevent me from hurting you! Now tell me! Where is Grace? Where is my wife?" he shouted angrily.

"Your wife is unharmed and not is unimportant to these proceedings," the Inquisitor replied. Without waiting for a response, she shifted her attention back to the prosecutor. "Please proceed, Valeyard." 

The Valeyard nodded to her. "Thank you, my Lady. The Time Lord known as the Doctor is hereby charged with the following: shirking his responsibilities to his fellow Time Lords by abandoning his seat of Lord President of Gallifrey; interfering with the development of lesser species, more specifically Humans; committing blatant acts of fraudulence with the use of psychically-influential technology; theft of Time Lord property and property belonging to other species, more specifically Humans; destruction of private property; placing his companions in danger without regard for their safety; causing wars and mass deaths by interfering with the affairs of lesser species, more specifically Humans; torture, and finally, my Lady, nine counts of genocide."

The Doctor had half-listened to the charges growing steadily worse in silence, his concern for Grace's well-being foremost in his mind. He had to admit that some of what the Valeyard was saying was true. But when the prosecutor charged him with nine counts of genocide, his eyes widened, stunned by the accusation. "Nine count?!" he exclaimed. How could he possibly be charged with ten genocides? _This court is nothing but a joke, just like the last time!_ he thought.

"Your charges are quite extensive, Valeyard. I hope that you are prepared to prove them to this Court."

"I am, Sagacity," came the response.

"Now, hold a minute!" the Doctor put in, still trying to absorb all that had been said, his mind racing.

The Inquisitor looked at the Defendant. "Doctor, you will have an opportunity to plead either guilty or not guilty to each of these charges. If you plead guilty, you will given the chance to explain your actions. If you plead not guilty, you will wait until your turn to provide a defense. Do you understand my instructions ?"

It took a moment for the Grand Inquisitor's words to filter into his brain enough to be understood. He nodded slightly in agreement.

She turned to the Valeyard. "Please repeat each charge so that the Doctor may make his pleads."

"Shirking his responsibilities to his fellow Time Lords by abandoning his seat of Lord President of Gallifrey," the Valeyard read.

The Doctor sighed. He knew that he would have to go through this charade if he were to find out about where Grace was and whether or not she truly were okay. As for the charge put to him, he'd never wanted to actually be Lord President. Running for the office had just been a way to avoid a death penalty for a crime he hadn't committed. Was it his fault that his opponent had turned out to be the guilty party, thus causing him to win the election by default? Still, he had to admit that, having been elected to the seat, he should have at least went through the proper procedures rather than just running off every time he was reminded of his position.

"Guilty," he admitted. He shook his head. "No explanation. Just sheer stubbornness."

The Inquisitor smiled slightly at his words. "I'm glad that you are not making foolish excuses for your actions, Doctor." Looking to the prosecutor, she ordered, "Proceed."

"Interfering with the development of lesser species, more specifically Humans."

"Not guilty. Well… I don't do it deliberately," the Doctor answered. "In fact…"

"Doctor," the Inquisitor put in abruptly. "You have been told that you will be given the chance to defend yourself. Do you wish to be declared guilty of all remaining charges?"

The Time Lord noticeably tense, grimacing at his error. "No, my Lady."

She exhaled at his statement. "Given your propensity for speaking out of turn, I will allow that last interruption. However, this is your last warning. I have reached the limit of my amiability, Doctor. Refrain from presenting your defense until the appropriate time. No further interruptions will be tolerated."

"Yes, my Lady," the Doctor replied, fidgeting to get this obvious hallucination over with. Still, for an hallucination, it was quite believable. He could smell and feel the wood banister under his hands.

The Inquisitor nodded to the Valeyard to continue.

"Committing blatant acts of fraudulence with the use of psychically-influential technology."

Immediately, the Doctor understood the charge was referring to his using psychic paper to say that he was someone he wasn't, such as Dr. James McCrimmon from the township of Ballamory. He scratched the back of his head as he confessed, "Guilty. But it was only so that I could gain access where I could do the most good. I mean, if I went into some of those places and said, 'Hello, I'm the Doctor and I'm an alien,' I would have been killed before I finished speaking."

"Theft of Time Lord property and property belonging to other species, more specifically Humans."

The Doctor grimaced slightly. "Oh, guilty. I did steal my TARDIS. But the High Council did reward it to me for stopping the Master that time so, technically, it isn't stolen anymore."

"What of the property belonging to the humans?" the Inquisitor pointed out.

"Guilty to that too. But only out of necessity. What was I supposed to do, go around naked? And I needed cash. Humans are so monetarily focused. I wouldn't have been able to pay for anything without it."

"Destruction of private property," the Valeyard continued without hesitation.

The Doctor exhaled slowly, remembering the number of times something, usually a building, was destroyed due to his actions. "Guilty," he professed. "Again, out of necessity."

"It was necessary to destroy the Factories at Villengard?"

"It was a munitions factory. They were making sonic blasters and selling them to rivaling planets. I prevented a war by destroying that factory. There's a banana grove there now," he added with a smile.

"A building on Sol 3 known as 16 Downing Street in the city of London?"

"The Slitheen were going to turn the Earth into a ball of molten slag, killing billions of people. I had to stop them."

"Placing your companions in danger without regard for their safety."

The Time Lord glared at his words. "Not guilty." _Not deliberately_, he added mentally to himself. He really didn't wish to place his friends in jeopardy but somehow they always seemed to be in harm's way around him.

The Valeyard grinned slightly, obviously pleased with the Doctor's declaration. "Causing wars and mass deaths by interfering with the affairs of lesser species," he pressed on.

"Not guilty." Again, the words "not deliberately" floated through his mind.

"Torture."

"Not guilty," the Doctor answered, his voice growing more strained with anger at the accusations. Even as he said the words, though, he recalled what he did to the Family of Blood and cringed.

The Valeyard's grin broadened as he read the last charge against the Gallifreyan. He turned his attention to the Inquisitor. "My Lady, I will now name each species for which the Doctor is accused of genocide so that he may make individual pleads."

"Is that acceptable, Doctor? Or do you prefer to plead to them as a whole."

The Doctor leaned forward, determination written on his face. "It's acceptable, my Lady. I very much would like to know exactly who it is I am supposed to have made extinct."

"Very well. Valeyard?"

The prosecutor took a slow breath. "The Silurians..."

"What?!" the Doctor exclaimed, stunned by the first race named.

"Is your hearing faulty, Doctor?" the Valeyard questioned. "In that case, I shall repeat the charge…"

"My hearing is fine! But genocide?! The Silurians?! I tried to _prevent_ them from becoming extinct!"

"In your third incarnation, that was true," the Valeyard conceded. "However, that was not the case in your fifth incarnation."

"It was self defense!" the Doctor exclaimed.

"The Wirrn."

"Self defense."

"The Swarm."

"Self defense!"

"The Great Vampires, the Vervoids, the Gelth, the Racnoss, the Daleks…"

"Self defense, self defense, self defense, self defense, SELF DEFENSE!"

There was a long pause before the Valeyard spoke again, his voice like ice.

"The Time Lords."

The Doctor froze at those three words before dropping into the seat behind him. He swallowed tightly, feeling his hearts pounding. All he could think of was the flash of brilliant white that filled his sight as he watched his home planet burn and the sound of billions of Time Lords screaming in their death thralls that rolled through his mind.

"The Time Lords are not extinct," he whispered in a tone that indicated he was trying to convince himself rather than the Court.

"What is your plea?" the Valeyard questioned.

"There are still two left," the Doctor continued, ignoring the question.

"What is your plea, Doctor?" the prosecutor pushed.

The Time Lord ran a hand through his hair, his face grimacing as the tightness in his chest grew exponentially with the memories. "Guilty," he finally whispered, his voice hardly louder than a breath.

"Please speak up, Doctor," the Inquisitor instructed, clearly unsympathetic to the Doctor's obvious turmoil.

The Doctor looked at her abruptly. "Guilty," he repeated. "I'm guilty. I killed them. I killed them all." His eyelids lowered slightly. "And if you are charging me with the genocide of the Time Lords, that proves this trial is as fraudulent as you are," he stated as he slowly stood up. He glared at the jury. "You're not Time Lords. You're not my people. You can't judge me. I've done wrong, yes. I admit it." He glanced at the Valeyard. "In fact, I plead guilty to all the charges you've brought up against me. I've endangered my companions just by allowing them to travel with me. I've interfered with the development of the human race just by being on Earth. I've committed genocide in order to protect that planet. I've inadvertently caused wars and deaths. And, yes, I've gone too far in exacting retribution on the guilty, even to the point of what may be called torture. I've done horrible things. But I have not committed any crimes against the Shades – Oh, yes, I know who you all are - and a just trial is one where a person is judged by his peers or by impartial representatives of the species a person has supposedly wronged. If there is a species out there who could be called my peers, it's the human race and I don't think that they will judge me for doing what I had to do to save their planet."

One of the members of the jury stood. "We are not here to judge you for your faults, Doctor, only to witness."

"Witness my trial?" the Time Lord questioned sarcastically. "A trial you conjured up from my own memories, charging me with every little wrong I've ever done?"

Another juror rose from his seat. "Doctor, it is you who have conjured this trial, you who have pressed these charges against yourself, you who act as prosecutor, and you who determined the outcome of the trial."

"What does that mean?" the Doctor demanded of the juror.

"We told you before you stepped through the portal that we would see the purity of your hearts," the first juror reminded gently. "We did not say that we would judge you for your faults."

"You're saying I'm doing this to myself?" the Gallifreyan queried, a mixture of confusion and fury playing over his face.

"Indeed," came the reply from the second juror.

"What of Grace?" the Time Lord swallowed tightly. "What of my wife? Is this happening to her too? Where is she?" he demanded. Not getting a response, fear clung to his hearts. "Please… she's everything to me. She's my redemption. There is no way I can ever be worthy of her." He paused, a pained expression gracing his face. "And yet, if it weren't for me, she'd be safe and sane," he whispered. A tear escaped his eye as he once again found it necessary to sit in order to avoid falling.

"Then you deem yourself unworthy," the first juror stated more than asked.

The Doctor nodded slowly in response, his shoulders slumped with the emotional burden.

"And we deem you most worthy."

The Gallifreyan's head shot up at the words, stunned that anyone would make such a pronouncement after such confessions of guilt. He was even more stunned to find that the courtroom had disappeared. In its place was a vast yellow/orange meadow covered with a pale green sky. A short distance ahead and to the right was a collection of crystalline towers which looked more like they had grown out of the ground than had been built. Three distant suns reflected off of their surfaces, making the buildings glimmer radiantly. To the left, a widely spread collection of blue trees adorned the far end of the meadow as flying bird-like creatures flittered from one tree to another, singing to each other in sounds the Doctor had never heard before. Best of all though, laying on the ground at his feet,was Grace, unconscious but apparently physically unharmed. The Doctor dropped to his knees beside her and pulled her into his arms, relieved that she was safe.

"My brethren have frightened you, child," said a gentle feminine voice from his right. Her words rang like wind chimes on a light breeze, flitting through the Doctor's ears and mind, drawing his eyes to hers.

The Time Lord gaped in awe at the being who stood beside him. She was obviously humanoid but she seemed to glow from within, her skin pearlescent. Her shimmering silver and gold hair accented her lilac eyes, which looked upon him with kindness and understanding. In an instant, the Doctor completely understood the rhyme he had known all his life; just the sight of her started to drive all sense of reality from his mind. Nothing in the universe could possibly be as wonderful as what he was seeing at that moment.

"You're beautiful!" he gasped, feeling the words escape his lips without being fully aware of them. "So beautiful!" His hold on Grace loosened, causing the woman to drop awkwardly to the ground as the Doctor felt himself slowly slipping from sanity both physically and mentally.

The creature's smile widened slightly as she lowered herself to meet the Gallifreyan face-to-face. Elegantly, she raised her left hand and touched his forehead with her fingertips.

"Welcome, Child of Elysia," she sang into his mind moments before he fell to the earth, unconscious.


	27. Chapter 25: Of Medicine and Madness

**Chapter 25**

_  
Shades of Black and Shades of White  
__Do not let Shades be in your sight__  
In their beauty you will find  
__Madness will complete your mind__  
If you're pure of hearts you'll be  
Blessed by them most graciously_

_Oh, Elysian Fields, guide my way  
To see the Shades this very day  
Let them see my hearts are pure  
That their beauty I may endure  
In Elysian Fields I will find  
Health and life and piece of mind_

_----------------  
_

_Come to us, child, and let us see the purity of your hearts._

_We deem you most worthy._

The Doctor took in a deep breath as he slowly opened his eyes, wondering about the odd images that had been running through his mind. He remembered being in a sandstorm with Grace in his arms. He remembered being in a courtroom and confessing to his crimes and the jury finding him not guilty… No, that wasn't the right word. They found him worthy. _Worthy of what? _he questioned. And he remembered looking into the eyes of the most impossibly beautiful creature he'd ever seen in all his lives; so beautiful, in fact, that he was absolutely certain he'd gone mad looking at her.

Cautiously, he sat up and regarded his surroundings with some misgiving. The room was about twelve feet by ten feet and consisted of prism-like walls that sent gentle waves of brilliant colors into the bright room, giving it an ethereal quality that was very relaxing. In the room was a soft bed – the same the Doctor was currently sitting on – with sky blue sheets, a wooden chair with white satin cushions, and a small rectangular glass table upon which lay a brown pin-striped suit, a white dress shirt, and a pair of white and brown Converse trainers. The sight of the suit caused the Doctor to look down at himself to realize that he was dressed in a long shimmering white robe that was hemmed with thin ornate cloth at the bottom and on the sleeves.

"I trust that you slept well," a male voice sang into his mind and ears, causing him to turn his head towards the sound. The instant he saw the face of the speaker, the Time Lord turned away, the nursery rhyme of his youth reminding him of the dangers.

The man laughed gently at his actions. "It's okay, child. You may look at me without worry. Alsya blocked the receptors in your brain that would cause a neural overload due to our unique physiology. We are fully aware that most species in your universe are unable to cope with our appearance. It helps us that you were primed long ago for coming to our world."

The Doctor carefully looked upon the man, still uncertain that he would remain sane if he did so. Not feeling the same overpowering sensation he had felt before when he looked upon the woman he had met, he sniffed, running his hand through his hair to hide just how utterly relieved he was that he was in full power over his faculties. The Gallifreyan then regarded the newcomer with interest. Like the woman, the man had flowing silver and gold hair, though his was more gold than silver. His eyes were also lilac like the woman's yet there was a hint of blue in them and his skin was just as iridescent. Towering over the thin lanky Time Lord at six feet seven inches tall, he wore the same kind of robe the Doctor was currently attired in but, in addition to the robe, there was an intricately designed purple overlay which covered his shoulders and arms, going just past his waistline and leaving the sides open. The whole outfit glinted delicately in the bright colorful lighting the walls gave the room.

"Primed?" he finally questioned the stunning creature. "Where am I?"

"Generally, specifically, or spiritually?" the man queried with a smile that showed he was joking. "Generally, you are on the planet Elysia. Specifically, you are in one of the hospitals in the City of the Spires. And spiritually… well, that's something only you can figure out. As for being primed, the Administrator will explain that to you at the appropriate time."

The Doctor gave an approving smile at the man's words. He didn't even know this person's name but he already figured out that he liked him very much.

"So," the man continued without hesitation. He folded his hands together before slowly separating them in an arc and bowed his head slightly, an obvious sign of welcome. "I am Tralim. I am your physician."

"I'm the Doctor," came the reply as the Time Lord carefully stood. "I assume you are a Shade."

Tralim smiled at his words. "That is my species, yes. And you are a Gallifreyan. Or, more specifically, a Time Lord."

The Doctor looked at him with surprise. "You know of my species?"

Tralim gently chuckled at his words. "Of course, child. I am well-versed on the cultures and physiology of many species in the Mutter's Spiral of the Carodian Universe. It is my field of expertise in xenobiology. You were brought to me for minor contusions on your back and neck as well as a sonic disruption in your shoulder." He watched as the Doctor delicately touched where the last of said injuries had been. "Do you feel any pain?"

"None," the Time Lord admitted. "It's like it was never there."

"Excellent," Tralim responded, obviously pleased. His face dropped as a thought came to mind. "The scarring on your torso…"

"Where's my wife?" the Doctor questioned abruptly, not wanting to focus on the memory of the Master's abuse as it flitted through his consciousness.

Tralim allowed the sudden change of subject, knowing that it would come up again when necessary. He considered the Doctor's question for a moment before replying. "Your mate is being cared for in another facility. She is human, correct?"

"Yes," he affirmed.

"It was my understanding that Time Lords shunned those species they considered lesser than their own," the physician commented.

"I've never been one to follow the crowd," the Doctor replied.

"Of course," Tralim stated with an understanding smile.

"How is she? Can I see her?"

"I will take you where she is being treated while we speak," Tralim told him somberly. He nodded to glass table in the room. "You may change back into your clothing, if you wish. They have been cleaned and repaired of the damage done due to your journey through the storm."

"Right now, my attire is the last of my concerns," the Doctor informed him honestly.

"Understandable. Please, come with me." The two men left the iridescent room and walked side by side through the equally brilliant and beautiful hallways and corridors as Tralim spoke solemnly to his patient. "I have examined your mate. I assume that she is the reason you have come to us." The Doctor nodded in response, allowing the Shade to continue. "I found evidence that she had been repeatedly raped as well as tortured over an extensive period of time." He noted the discomfort on the Gallifreyan's face at his words. "From your reaction, I can see that you obviously are aware of this."

"Yes," the Doctor confirmed. "I tended to her as best as I could once we were able to rescue her from… her attacker." He swallowed. "Unfortunately, I am not skilled enough to heal the damage done to her psyche."

"This attacker was the same person who tortured you, I suppose."

The Gallifreyan looked at him suspiciously. "Pulled that from my mind, did you?"

"It was on the surface of your thoughts, child," Tralim informed him. "I am not trying to intrude on your privacy. Besides, it is part of the duties of my social position to be aware of my patient's thoughts. It helps me to better attend to their ailments." He touched the Doctor's shoulder supportively. "I assure you, anything and everything that I may discover is strictly confidential unless you permit me to share it with my colleagues for strictly professional reasons."

They had reached what appeared to be a lift as he finished his promise. The door to the lift seemed to fade away, allowing the two to enter before reappearing. A moment later, the lift started to move downward.

The Doctor sighed softly, thinking about Tralim's words. He knew he was on edge at the moment but he couldn't help it. His concern for Grace was foremost on his mind, though hearing Tralim constantly calling him "child" was a bit of an irritant. It didn't help that the Shades were, as he had suspected the moment he found himself on trial, telepathic.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" he questioned. Seeing the slightly confused look on the Shade's face, he clarified, "You keep calling me 'child'."

"Because it is who you are," Tralim explained. "You are a child of Elysia. You have been primed."

"You said that before. What does that mean, 'primed'?"

Tralim gave him a patient smile. "As I said before, the Administrator will explain that at the appropriate time." The lift stopped, allowing the two to exit before Tralim took the lead once again. Taking a breath, he continued on the subject of Grace. "You did a fine job caring for your mate, child…"

"I would prefer if you called me Doctor," the Gallifreyan requested.

"My apologies if I offended you. For us, being called 'child' is an honor as well as a reality. We are all children of our people, are we not? A fact that cannot be change regardless of our age."

"I suppose that's true," the Doctor murmured in agreement.

They were silent for the rest of the short journey. A few minutes later, they approached a set of white double doors which faded automatically to allow them to step through. "This is our psychiatric facility where your mate is currently being diagnosed. I of course informed her physician of my examination and the results of such. It is now up to Preain to make her own diagnosis and to set up a healing regiment."

He led the Doctor to a stunning woman, who strongly resembled Tralim. She too was dressed in what was obviously a standard white gown with sheer trimmings. However, the overlay she wore was a different shade of purple than the one Tralim had on.

"Preain, this is your patient's mate," Tralim said, making introductions. "He prefers to be addressed as the Doctor. This is my sister Preain. She will be attending to your mate."

Meeting his wife's physician drove all questions about priming from the Doctor's mind for the time being. Folding his hands and separating them just as he had seen Tralim do for him, he greeted the female Shade. "A pleasure to meet you, Preain. Please, tell me about Grace."

Preain took a slow breath before speaking, obviously considering how to relay what needed to be said. "I'm afraid your mate is in very bad condition."

The Time Lord nodded sadly. "I know. She was raped by a fellow Time Lord. I tried to help her but…" He swallowed tightly at his failure to heal the woman who owned his hearts. "Can you help? Please. You're my last hope."

The female Shade looked thoughtful for a moment, as if the Gallifreyan had asked her the most difficult question. "There are several factors to consider, child. The first, is that your mate is with child. Tralim tells me that human females typically have a gestation period of approximately nine Earth months, give or take a couple of weeks, and that, based on his examination of her, she is nearly five months along."

The Doctor nodded somberly. "We conceived just before she was kidnapped," he replied quietly.

Preain continued, noting the Time Lord's words. "This pregnancy may be affected by our treating her, especially since the child is half-Gallifreyan. The fetus will undoubtedly be fully aware of any and all treatments done to its mother's psyche. Then, of course, there is knowing exactly what happened to your mate to bring her to the state she is currently in. Unfortunately, such knowledge is difficult to obtain from one so damaged. I'm getting only snippets of memories from her and they are jumbled and confused. While she loves you dearly, she also fears you."

He swallowed tightly. "Her rapist used my image to represent himself when he went into her mind."

"That would definitely explain her confusion. Still, I need more information to properly set a treatment for her. However, I fear that doing an in depth look into her memories may worsen her condition, especially if I am unaware of what happened." Preain hesitated only a moment before pressing on with her words. "I would like to examine your memories instead."

"I wasn't there," he informed her bluntly. "I'm afraid my memories would not be of help."

"You are telepathically linked, are you not?" the Shade pointed out.

"Yes," the Doctor admitted. "But there is more to it than that. I…" He took a slow breath, finding the words necessary to express himself without sounding heartless. "In order to rescue her from her kidnapper, I was forced to block the link between us. Feeling what she was enduring… it was preventing me from functioning… it was just too much."

Preain looked upon him sympathetically. "You may not be fully aware of the memories, but it is quite likely that they are there, hidden away in your subconscious. Even faint memories will help me to development a regiment."

The Time Lord considered her words carefully before nodding slowly. "Very well. If it will help her. But I want to see her first." He hesitated, sniffing slightly. "I need to see her."

Preain smiled gently at his words. "Of course," she agreed. She motioned for the Doctor to follow her. Tralim took up the rear as they moved further into the facility.

A few minutes later, they approached a pale gray door, which faded when Preain ran her hand over the doorframe. On the other side of the door was a simply furnished, but obviously comfortable, room. The furniture, which consisted of a bed, a table and a chair, were all bolted to the floor. On the other side of the room was an opening that led to a washroom, a curtain acting as a barrier between the washroom and the main room.

Sitting on the bed and staring into nothingness was Grace, who paid no attention as the Doctor approached and sat beside her. The Time Lord swallowed at the expression on her face before slowly reaching up a hand to cup her cheek. She reacted immediately, scampering across the bed away from him with a loud, terrified shriek.

"Oh, _meriha maha_," the Gallifreyan murmured, tears in his eyes, knowing that her reaction was more due to what she was feeling and seeing in her mind than due to his actions. After a moment, though, the Doctor realized that something was missing from the equation, something so noticeably missing that he didn't know why he didn't realize it until that moment. "I can't feel her," he told the Shades that waited a few feet away. "I should feel everything that she is going through thanks to the telepathic link we share. Why can't I feel her?"

It was Tralim who answered the concerned questioning. "When Alsya blocked the receptors in your brains to allow you to look upon us without a neural overload occurring, the block inadvertently affected the telepathic link between you two." Seeing the Gallifreyan's eyes widen with anxiety, he continued. "The effect on the telepathic link is temporary. It will wear off within a day or so. The block on the receptors will be removed before either of you leave Elysia to allow you both to function as you normally would in your own universe."

"Can she see you as I do?" the Doctor questioned, once again reminded of the nursery rhyme and the proof of its accuracy he himself encountered.

"Since your wife is human, blocking the receptors in her brain so that she may see us clearly was a little more difficult than with you, especially considering her condition. Human minds just cannot accept our existence. Quite often with humans, we must distort the way they see us as well as block the receptors. She sees us more like… what is the word they would use… angels or spirits. She cannot see our true form as you do now."

"That's good," the Time Lord commented, grateful for at least that blessing. He really didn't want his beloved to be accidentally driven further into madness. He regarded her for a long moment, watching her cower in a far corner. "You said you need to see my memories to help her," he finally said, looking at Preain. "I suggest we get to work immediately."

The Shade nodded slightly at his words, a sad smile on her face. "Then come with me." She escorted the Gallifreyan from the room as Tralim gave his best wishes and returned to his own facility.

-------------------

**TRANSLATIONS**

_**Meriha maha**_ – My salvation


	28. Chapter 26: Explanations

**Chapter 26**

The Doctor hyperventilated his eyes wide with terror while Preain's thin fingers ran through his hair comfortingly. When she had led the Gallifreyan into the private room, neither of them had expected the results of the reading the Time Lord had agreed to. As Preain had suspected, there were memories of the attack on Grace hidden in the Gallifreyan's mind. What was surprising was how intense and detailed they were, as if the Doctor himself had gone through what his wife had endured, at least in part.

"Oh, child," Preain murmured gently to him. "I am so very sorry."

"She went through that alone," he whispered, obviously upset. "How could I force her to go through that alone? How could I just… block her off like that?" Running a hand through his unkempt hair as he pulled himself from Preain, he forced his breathing to slow, sniffing tightly. "Sorry. I just… Sorry," he said again, giving a weak smile to the Shade who was still giving him physical comfort by placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Do not berate yourself, child," she instructed him gently. "You did what you had to do for your mate's sake. No matter how cruel it might seem to others, it was done out of deep and passionate love."

He nodded at her words, having known the truth of them before he had even come to Elysia. Having the facts validated by the Shade, however, did nothing to ease the ache in his hearts. He wouldn't change his decision if he was put in a position to change his mind but he still regretted the pain his beloved had to endure because of that decision. He wipe a hand over his mouth, wishing he didn't feel as if he were about to vomit. "Can you help her now that you know exactly what happened to her?"

Preain gave him a sad smile, dropping her hand slowly. "Yes. I can help her. It will take time and it will not be pleasant for either of you." Seeing the frown on his face, she continued. "In order to tend to her properly, she must be free of as many… distractions as possible. This would include the telepathic link that you share with her."

The Time Lord's eyes widened with fear of what the Shade was saying. "My species mates for life," he told her bluntly. "You can't break the telepathic link between husband and wife, not unless you kill one of us. And even if you could, I won't allow it. She's my wife; I need the link with her." 

"I would never dream of breaking the sacred bond you have with your mate, even if I could," Preain assured him. "However, in order for her to recover fully from the trauma she has endured, she must not feel your presence. It is going to be difficult enough on her psyche to cope with the telepathic presence of her own unborn child in her mind. The clearer her mind is of external influences, the better her treatment will be. Surely, you understand the necessity of a peaceful environment without the distraction of a worried husband."

He swallowed tightly, fear dwindling to concern with her words. "Then what must I do to… ensure this peaceful environment you need to treat her?"

"You must leave Elysia and return to your own universe."

"Abandon her?" he questioned cautiously.

"No, child, not abandon her. Leave her in capable hands with faith in our abilities to heal her."

"For how long?"

"At least one Earthen year."

"But she's five months pregnant. The baby will be born before then…" He swallowed as he remembered the last reading he had made of the fetus's growth. "Or not," he whispered.

Preain sighed gently as she stood, extending her hand to him. "I think it is time for you to see the Administrator. There are things you must know in order to make well-informed decisions concerning your family's future."

The Doctor looked at her for a moment, noting her words. "What sort of things?"

"That is for the Administrator to tell you. It is not within the perimeters of my social position to involve myself in administrative concerns."

"Would these… concerns… also include 'priming?'" the Time Lord queried.

"Indeed," she replied. Slowly, she stood and extended her thin hand to him. "Please, come with me. I know that the Administrator is waiting patiently for you."

His mind racing with questions and still recovering from Preain's reading, he ran his hands through his hair once more, this time to make himself a little more presentable, before standing. Not taking her hand, he gave her a sad smile and gestured towards the door.

"Lead the way," he instructed.

She nodded slightly at his words and escorted him from the room.

Leaving the hospital grounds, the two walked through the great City of the Spires, passing various Shades. All were dressed in the same white robe as the Doctor and Preain. The only exception to their dress was the overlays that each wore. Some were more intricately designed than the one Preain was wearing, some more simple than her overlay. All varied in color. Different shades of blue, red, green, yellow, purple, orange… it was as if the entire population was a massive rainbow. The glittering towers of crystalline buildings, spaced perfectly to allow as much of the planet's three suns to shine into the streets, only made the sights all that more beautiful in the Doctor's eyes. He had an overwhelming urge to slip on his glasses to examine every little detail the two of them walked past. Unfortunately for him, said glasses were still back at the hospital in his pin-striped suit jacket.

It was a good thirty minute walk before the Doctor and Preain arrived at a palatial building which the Time Lord couldn't help but compare to the Fortress of Solitude as depicted in the film "Superman." His grin broadened at the sight, his admiration of the structure reflected in his exclamations of how brilliant the crystalline building was. Preain guided him into the structure and through the corridors inside before coming to a large door.

"Here is where we part ways for a short time. Either my brother or I will return to collect you when you are ready to return to the medical facility," she told him gently. Giving the Doctor her people's traditional salutation, she turned and elegantly left his side.

The Doctor considered the door before him, noting that there were no handles but rather the same flat sensor he'd seen all over the city to the left of the entrance. Running his hand over the sensor, his suspicions were immediately confirmed as the door vanished, allowing him to enter before rematerializing behind him.

He found himself in a spacious room of white, about the size of a typical office on Earth. The prism-like walls strongly resembled the hospital room in which he had woken, the opaqueness providing privacy while allowing the suns' brightness to filter through the crystal structure. He briefly wondered if all rooms on Elysia appeared as such before continuing his quick assessment of his surroundings. Within the room itself were four luxurious chairs surrounding a circular table which projected an array of holographic images. The images were being manipulated by a familiar female Shade who stood as she worked. Her use of what was now obvious to the Gallifreyan as a computer interface seemed like a dance, her arms and hands moving with smooth, elegant swishes.

"Welcome, Child of Elysia," she greeted, her attention still on the interface in front of her. She stopped her actions abruptly, causing the holograms to dissipate. She turned to the Doctor, giving him the customary bodily greeting.

"You're the one who greeted me when my wife and I first came here," the Doctor realized, her words helping him to make the connection.

"Indeed I am," she replied. "Your presence is most welcome. So few of our children return to us."

The Time Lord frowned at her words but didn't have a chance to verbally express his confusion as the woman gestured him to approach.

"I am Alsya, Administrator for the City of the Spires," she introduced herself. "Please, have a seat. I have been expecting you to visit me since I greeted you at the portal."

"You are the one who blocked the receptors in my brain, allowing me to see you as you are without… consequences," the Doctor verified.

Alsya smiled gently at his train of logic. "It's one of the great privileges of my position, allowing the few visitors we do have to enjoy the beauty of our world." Without waiting for the Doctor to do so first, she delicately took a seat in one of the available chairs, her posture making her appear far more regal than she had when the Gallifreyan first laid eyes on her.

The Doctor sat in the chair nearest to her, feeling strangely intimidated by the woman before him. "Umm… Preain said that you'd be able to answer my questions."

"About your wife, your unborn child, and the reason you are a Child of Elysia. Or rather, more specifically, about priming," she stated with confidence.

"Yes," he confirmed, his eyes focused on her ice blue eyes. With her shining silver hair, he couldn't help but compare her to the princess in the stories his mother had told him as a small child. "Princess Aenia," he whispered to himself.

The whisper brought a smile to Alsya's face. "You remember us."

He blinked at her words, his confusion clear on his face. "What?"

She regarded him for a moment. "But the memory is vague, like a tale told long ago. Hidden away under layers of an extremely eventful life." She nodded slightly. "It is most definitely time for explanations."

"Yes," the Time Lord agreed readily. "I would definitely say so."

She gave him a gentle, matriarchal smile. "Tralim informed you that you have been primed. It was a small indiscretion which he should have avoided but it is of no harm. It only served to intrigue your natural curious mind. If you had been of a different, less imaginative species, it could have been… ill-advised."

"So, what is priming?" he questioned, proving his inquisitive nature.

"It is a process in which we prepare a person's mind to more readily accept the environment of Elysia. It is especially necessary for telepathic species. If you had not been primed long ago, it would have been necessary to place you in confinement with one of our psyche healers until such time that you could move amongst our people without complications."

"And… how was I primed?"

"You were primed at birth by a psyche healer, child. You've been primed to come to Elysia for your entire life."

"Why me?" came the next question.

"My predecessor was wise. She knew that you would one day need to come to us for help."

"How?" There was a pause before the Doctor clarified. "How did your predecessor know that I would need your help?"

Alsya looked at him with maternal eyes. "All Children of Elysia need us eventually, though few actually seek us as you have."

The Gallifreyan's frustration grew at the lack of direct answers. "Why do your people continue to call me that? How am I a 'Child of Elysia?' I've never been here my entire life."

His words seemed to stun the Shade. "You mean… you don't know?"

"Know what?" Hope flitted through the Time Lord that he would finally get to the root of the matter.

Alsya reached forward, taking his hand gently in hers. "Time Lord… Doctor… Dafydd… you were born on Elysia."

The Doctor pulled his hand away. "I was born on Gallifrey," he corrected her with conviction.

"Then how is it that I know the name your mother bestowed you?" she pointed out to him.

The name she had spoken, one he hadn't heard in literally centuries, echoed in his mind. Dafydd. A Welsh name given to him by a woman of Welsh descent. His mother was the only person who ever called him that, claiming that his Gallifreyan name was far too complicated to pronounce, even though his father had easily shortened it into a suitable nickname. "You're telepathic," he reasoned, refocusing on the Shade. "You pulled it from my mind."

She chuckled slightly. "Stubborn. He thought that you might be." She slowly stood, extending her hand to him. "Please, come with me."

"And where are we going?"

"You want proof of my words. I will provide you with such proof."

The Gallifreyan stood quickly. "Right, then. _Allons-y_. Prove to me that I'm a 'Child of Elysia.'"

Given the Doctor the same enigmatic smile she'd given before, she escorted him to a door on the other side of the office, one that the Time Lord hadn't noticed when he'd first entered the "office." The door didn't have the telltale sensor that all the other doors he'd seen had. Taken a deep breath, she closed her eyes, concentrating on the door before her. A moment later, the barrier vanished, allowing them to walk through the entrance, leading them into a corridor.

"Brilliant! Telepathic code to open the door," the Doctor concluded. "Encoded to your specific brainwaves, I would imagine. Makes it virtually impossible for someone to break in. But you'd have to have a disciplined mind in order for such a thing to work. An extremely disciplined mind," he added. "An impossibly disciplined mind." He swallowed slightly as he gazed on Alsya, feeling suddenly very small next to her. No Time Lord throughout the history of Gallifrey had ever achieved such mastery of their telepathic abilities so as to incorporate their technology with those abilities so completely.

"Yes, our technology responds to our telepathic influences," Alsya told him, picking up his thoughts so easily read. "In this case, the area where we are going is extremely secure. As Administrator, I have full access to all areas of our city. It is necessary to maintain order and peace in our society." She started down the hallway, knowing that her guest would follow.

"So, basically, you and you alone are this city's government. You're 'Big Brother,'" the Time Lord concluded.

"You make it sound like I'm a dictator," she commented with a grin. "And, no, I am not this city's government. More like… the city's law enforcement. I keep an eye on all activity in the city and, if there is a violation of our laws, insure that those responsible are confined and disciplined."

"Then who creates the laws of your society?"

"No one," she replied bluntly.

He frowned in confusion. "No one?" 

"We don't have what you would call a government, no ruling body to determine laws. There's no need for one. We all obey the one true law of our ancestors."

"And that is?"

"Show kindness and respect to each other," she stated as if the answer to his query were obvious. She stopped briefly and moved to a wall, touching it with her hand. A moment later, a small red ball of crystal emerged from said wall, which she took and then continued down the corridor, all the time talking to the Doctor.

"And that's it? Just that one law?"

"There is no need for any other," Alsya told him plainly. "If you respect your fellow Shade, you won't do harm to them. You won't take what is not yours. You won't tell falsities against your fellow Shade. And the one true law does not limit thoughts, as you have implied by comparing me to 'Big Brother.' I am not the thought police."

"What if someone did? Harm another, I mean," the Doctor questioned.

She shook her head. "The chances of the one true law being broken are astronomical. No one has broken the law in over five thousand years. Besides, it is impossible to break the law and… how do the humans say it?... get away with it. The guilt of the crime is always at the forefront of the guilty one's thoughts."

"But what if someone did?" he repeated the question firmly. "You have outsiders on your planet. Surely you've had the occasional… problem."

"Those who are allowed to visit our planet are all worthy. The Sentinels assure that is the case."

"The Black Shades," the Time Lord realized.

"That is the name that your people have given them," she replied. "It is… inaccurate as they are no more different than the rest of our people, other than they have been specifically selected for their telepathic abilities to have such an honor." She gave him a patient look. "As you see, it is impossible for anyone to commit a crime on our world." She stopped at the end of the hallway in front of another "sensor-less" door.

"Then why would your people need you? If crime is impossible, there is no need for police."

"To ensure that the impossible remains impossible," she replied with a glint in her eyes. "I am also the Protector of our past, present, and future… and that of our Children." Without explaining her words, she turned towards the door and once again used her skills to open the door, allowing the two of them to pass through.

The room in which she led the Doctor was spacious and barren but retained the crystalline walls that were throughout the city.

"Returning to the matter for which you came to me…" she shifted the conversation. "The answers you seek concerning priming, and how you are a Child of Elysia, are here." She presented the red crystal ball to him. "Place the module in the center of the room and step away. It will activate itself." She looked into his eyes, kindness beaming from her pale ice blue orbs. "I will leave you in private." Without further word, she exited the room, leaving a curious Time Lord to ponder the object now in his hand.

Sniffing slightly, he examined the ball for a long moment before doing as he was instructed, placing the sphere in the middle of the floor and taking several steps back. Almost immediately, the very air around him seemed to coalesce over the module, forming a humanoid shape. The shape solidified slowly, the sight before him taking the Doctor's breath away.

"_Apelhii, hasero maha_," the familiar humanoid shape greeted, his bright blue eyes smiling.

"Father…" the Doctor whispered in awe.

----------------

**Translations:**

_**Apelhii, hasero maha**_ – Greetings, my son.


	29. Chapter 27: Family Ties

_Well, we are coming close to the end of this story. However, that only means that there's another coming soon, a sequel! So stick with me and don't forget to write reviews. Remember, reviews – like bananas – are good!_

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

**Chapter 27**

"_Apelhii, hasero maha," the familiar humanoid shape greeted, his bright blue eyes smiling._

"_Father…" the Doctor whispered in awe._

-------------

The Doctor blinked for a moment, regarding the shape with a mixture of fascination and trepidation. "_Papis_?" he repeated the word in the ancient language of the Time Lords, this time questioning the validity of what he was saying.

The apparition laughed gently at the confusion on the Time Lord's face, replying in Gallifreyan. "You are so like your mother: cautious and yet curious. You even have her eyes." He exhaled slowly, seemingly content. "Look at you. All grow up. The last I remember, you were just born, still just an infant."

"You're not real," the Doctor decided. "Some sort of holographic matrix programmed with my father's image and to react as he might. But… you're still not real."

"I am real," the shape protested softly. "It is me, Dafydd. Your father." He paused for a moment. "Or rather, your father as he was five days after you were born." He looked into the Doctor's eyes before explaining. "The Shades are a remarkably advanced people, far more advanced than we are in many things. And just as we have the Matrix, they have something quite similar. We store memories and images of those who have passed on; they store the very essence of a person. In my case, they stored only a small part of my essence, copying and retaining my personality and my memories up to this point in my life. I'm more of a… snapshot… of the person who will raise you – who did raise you – in the form of energy which I can solidify using the power available in this module. But I'm still your father." He grinned broadly at him. "I can still be proud of you."

"I'm not so sure about that," the Doctor murmured.

"But I am proud. You've probably made mistakes, done things that you regret. Everyone does. But you're here and the Black Shades – the Sentinels – would not have allowed you through the portal if your hearts weren't pure. That tells me that you are a good man, no matter what guilt you might feel over… whatever it is you feel guilty about. And for that, Dafydd, I am so very proud of you."

The Doctor wiped the bottom of his face, unable to find the words necessary to express his thoughts and feelings at the moment. When he did finally find a voice, it wasn't what he expected to hear from his lips. "You never called me Dafydd."

"I didn't?" came the querulous reply. "Hmm. Well, I haven't given you your proper name yet so the one your mother picked will have to do at the moment. Unless… what name did I give you?"

The Doctor hesitated, sniffing slightly before answering, softly speaking his real name before continuing. "I keep it close to my hearts. I never tell anyone my name; it's far too precious. Well, I told Grace but..."

"Your wife?" his father asked.

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah."

"Human?"

A grin appeared on the Gallifreyan's face. "Yeah. Fourth marriage. The other three…" He took a breath. "Well…" He stopped, as if the single word was an explanation in itself.

"And you? You graduated the Academy, yes? Earned your endowment."

The Doctor gave a little laugh. "Yeah, I earned it. Barely. Wasn't at the top of my class but that was strictly the lack of discipline I inherited from you. Didn't want to do the work because it was far too easy for me to do it. Well, most of it was anyway."

"My son, the genius," came the proud reply, to which the Doctor just gave an enigmatic shrug.

"So, I was born on Elysia," the Gallifreyan changed the subject to what really was foremost on his mind. "I was primed as a child."

"Yes. You were born on Elysia. And Administrator Aenia just approved for you to be primed to return."

"Princess Aenia," the Doctor said softly, realizing that the stories his mother had told him were over-embellishments of her association with Alsya's predecessor. "So why was I born here instead of on Gallifrey as I have always believed?"

The smile on the figure's face was sad. "Because Human DNA and Time Lord DNA are only barely compatible. There never before has been a child born of such a mating and the chances of there being a successful one are extreme. When your mother became pregnant with you, we couldn't have been happier. But then the complications came. Your heartsrates were erratic and, despite having already made a telepathic link with your mother, you were far too weak to cope with the stress it brought on. I tried everything that I knew about genetics to save you but… we were going to lose you. We were desperate. So… we sought out the Shades." He paused, looking deep into the Doctor's eyes. "You are alive because of their advanced genetic knowledge, my son. And I have a feeling that's why you are here now. Your wife is pregnant, yes?"

The Doctor turned away, determined to hide the pain in his eyes. "It's more than that. She…" He sighed, refocusing his thoughts quickly to avoid an emotional breakdown. "She's suffering from severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. She was brutally raped by… by a Time Lord."

"What?" the father gasped, stunned by the revelation.

"He was imprisoned," the Doctor told him quickly. "He can't bother us. I tried to heal her myself but… I failed. And now I could lose them both."

"Why didn't you take her to one of our healers?"

"I couldn't."

"Why not?"

The Doctor turned back to look into those blue eyes he so loved. "I just couldn't," he replied tightly. Quickly, he shook off the growing ache in his hearts left by the loss of his home world. "It doesn't matter now," he continued quickly. "I brought her here for help and Preain says that she can help Grace… if I leave her here while she treats her."

"And your child?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. We never got to the baby."

There was a long moment of silence between the two men.

"You are going to have to make a difficult decision."

"And that is?"

"Whether or not you want your child to be Human or Gallifreyan, just as I had to decide the same for you. It wasn't a difficult decision. As a Human, you would have been a sickly boy with a weak heart and health problems that would have continued far into adulthood. If you made it to adulthood. As a Gallifreyan… well, look at you. You're a Time Lord. You've married, had a family I would imagine, and are about to start another one. And that is what you are going to have to decide for your own child. Will the baby be stronger and healthier as a Gallifreyan or as a Human?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't even know if the baby can be saved. And how can I decide something like this without Grace's input? She isn't well, Father. She doesn't even know who I am."

"Then you don't have much of a choice but to decide this on your own, do you?"

A huff escaped the Time Lord's lips. "So like you. Practical at all times. So… Time Lord. Sometimes I wonder what Mother saw in you."

His father smiled widely. "To tell you the truth, I sometimes wonder myself." The two laughed at the share joke for a moment before the figure looked upon the Doctor with considering eyes. "Was I a good father, Dafydd?"

The question startled the Doctor with how it seemed to have come from nowhere. He licked his lips as he considered his words, remembering his childhood clearly at that instant. "You were the best father. You worked hard to make sure that neither Mother nor I were ever in need. You visited as often as you could when I was in the Academy. You always tried your best to be there when I needed you."

"But I often failed," the patriarch realized from what the Doctor wasn't telling him.

"You couldn't help that," the Doctor told him firmly. "You were a busy man. I always understood that. You always found a way to make up for it. I never once doubted that you loved me."

"I'm sorry, my son," came the quiet heartfelt reply. "Especially since… our time together is coming to an end. I can only manifest myself into a solid form for a limited amount of time."

The Doctor's face dropped, sadness filling his eyes. "I'd almost forgotten that you aren't really… tangible."

"It looks like I'm about to disappoint you again," the figure said somberly. "And I am so sorry, _pritore maha_. If I could stay with you, I would. But I can't. And it's my fault."

The Doctor took a deep breath. "It's not your fault, Father."

"It is my prerogative to admit when I have made a serious error," came the insistent reply. "I will not be able to manifest myself into a visible form ever again. The module just doesn't have the capacity."

"So… I'll never see you again, talk to you again," the Doctor concluded.

"You can't," came the sympathetic response.

The son sniffed back then urge to weep for the forthcoming loss. Moving to the father, he wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly for a long moment before slowly, reluctantly, releasing him and stepping back.

"_Nolehe, Dafydd. Ma sa horaboz po bressin basa sa bressinzam_."

Tears escaped the Doctor's eyes as he heard the words of farewell. "_Ma atinazam, Papis. Kardii maha sa bressinzam lu. Nolehe._"

A moment later, the humanoid shape disappeared into the red crystal sphere, leaving the Doctor alone in the spacious room. Sniffing slightly, he wiped away the tears on his cheeks, unaware of Alsya's presence as she glided into the room. She gently picked up the crystalline sphere, holding it gently in her hands.

"The power is nearly completely drained from the module," she commented, sorrow in her voice as she mentally scanned the device. "But that is only possible if the essence of the person in the module overextended itself."

"He used the power of the module to appear in a solid form," the Time Lord informed her softly, still recovering from the emotional farewell.

She shifted her attention to him, her icy blue eyes reflecting genuine despair. "I am so sorry, child. Our father's using up the power in the module in such a way means that there is not enough power to maintain his energy pattern."

The Doctor swallowed tightly. "Meaning… he's dying."

"Yes," came the quiet reply. "And there is nothing that I can do to restore the power in time to save him."

There was a long moment of silence between them before the Gallifreyan spoke. "There is one thing you can do." He looked into her eyes. "You can open the buffer. Let him escape."

"Everything that he was would be lost to us," she pointed out.

"Everything that he was is already lost to us. Has been for many centuries. He knew exactly what he was doing when he used up the power in the module to make himself corporeal. He never intended his… soul… to remain in a module." He paused for a moment. "He is a scientist and an explorer and you have a whole new universe for him to explore, even if he can never share his discoveries. And you can't explore a universe if you are planet-bound, encased in a vase database of soulds." He took a slow breath. "Let him go."

Alsya gave him a sad smile before nodding with understanding concerning his decision. Returning her focus to the module in her hand, she used the remaining power, as little as there was, to open the buffer. A bright golden glow emerged from the module before drifting through the ceiling and out into the cosmos.

The Doctor considered the events of the last several minutes and everything that he had learned in that time. He was sad to let go of what little was left of the man whom he adored with all his hearts, even if he never really was the perfect son to him. However, he knew also that he had let him go a long time ago and, if he were honest with himself, a part of him was happy for his father. Like Astrid Peth, the brilliant waitress from the starship Titanic, the Gallifreyan patriarch was now stardust… and you can go far when you are only stardust.

"_Nolehe, Papis._ _Sa ma kardaz_," he whispered to the vanished patriarch.

Taking a breath, the Doctor shifted his focus holding onto a past he knew would only slip through his fingers to far more important issues, namely insuring his family's future. Turning to Alsya, he questioned, "Now… about my unborn child…"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"The child is indeed weak," Tralim explained as the Doctor and he reviewed the test results the Shade physician had obtained. "The infant will definitely have some health issues. However, with some careful manipulation of the genome, we should be able to insure that the child will be born without incident."

"What sort of health issues?" the Time Lord questioned with concern.

Tralim brought up a detailed biological map of the infant, showing a virtual diagram of the child's internal organs. "The child will have two hearts like you. However, the right one will be unavoidably weaker than the other. Respiratory system will be a mixture of both Human and Gallifreyan. There will be a respiratory bypass system but the intake of oxygen will be more limited than your own. The rest of the infant's biology will be Gallifreyan, though there will be some recessive Human traits that may affect his or her appearance. If you prefer a particular look or gender, we can adjust the genome accordingly without any ill effects."

The Doctor shook his head at the suggestion. "I would rather not change anything unless it is for the sake of the baby's health," he told the physician. "Let natural selection choose the rest." He looked intensely into the Shade's eyes. "I just want my child to be as healthy as possible; everything else, in comparison, is irrelevant."

"Very well," Tralim replied genially. "I will see to it that the adjustments are done as soon as possible. If the changes are not rejected by the parent DNA and there are no complications, the child should be born around the proper estimated due date."

"And how will I know if there are complications that I need to be aware of? I won't be in this universe for the duration of the pregnancy. For that matter, how will I know when the baby is going to be born?"

Tralim pulled a pendant from under his cloak and handed it over to the Time Lord. "Wear this always close to your hearts. The pendant is a long range multi-universal communication device. It will allow me to call for you telepathically to inform you if you need to return. Preain will do the same when your mate is ready to return to your universe. You will also be informed of all opportunities to visit for short periods of time with approval from Preain, since it is she who will be your mate's psyche healer. However, you will not be able to send messages through it due to your inability to utilize our technology. It will also inform us if you are in need of our medical assistance."

"What of the Sentinels?"

"They have already read your hearts. They will have no need to do so again. But to be certain, the device will allow you to bypass the realm in which the Sentinels reside. We will give you a cloak so that you may walk through the storm on the other side of the portal without damage to either yourself or your attire. It will also be a visual reminder to the Sentinels of your true origins – that you are a Child of Elysia. The rest - finding Elysia once again - will feel instinctual, just as it did the first time thanks to the priming."

The Time Lord nodded slightly with understanding. "I suppose… that's it, isn't it. I should… I should probably go. I mean, given that you and Preain… I mean… with me being unable to help… and the sooner I leave, the sooner Preain can start treating Grace…"

Tralim gave him a sympathetic smile. "Perhaps you would like to record a message for your mate." Seeing the querulous frown the Gallifreyan gave him, he explained. "She may reach a point where she will understand her surroundings but still be ill-suited for visitors. In which case, it might be wise for her to have some reassurance of your intentions."

"Did Preain suggest that?" the Doctor asked, the frown vanishing with his words. Seeing the smile on Tralim's face broadly slightly, he returned the expression. "Thank you. I think… I think I'd like that. At least I won't be just leaving her without explaining my actions."

"I will arrange it, then," the Shade informed him.

"Thank you," came the sincere response. "For everything."

Tralim merely gave him a genial smile.

------------

**Translations:**

_**pritore maha**_ – my little one

_**Nolehe, Dafydd. Ma sa horaboz po bressin basa sa bressinzam.**_ – Goodbye, David. Honor me by always living a good life. _(Yes, I know I had the Doctor's mother call him 'David.' By the way, the name Dafydd is properly pronounced 'Dah-vith')_

_**Ma atinazam, Papis. Kardii maha sa bressinzam lu . Nolehe.**_ – I will always, Father. You always live in my hearts. Goodbye.

_**Nolehe, Papis.**__**Sa ma kardaz.**_ – Goodbye, Father. I love you.


	30. Epilogue

_And here it is. The end of this story. But as I said in my last author's notes, there is a sequel going to be written. Thank you all for sticking with me through this and please let me know how I am doing. I know a lot of you have been reading this without giving reviews so here is your chance. And I really do want to know how you like this._

_And without further ado…_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Epilogue**

Two weeks had passed since the Master and Lucy had last seen another living soul, being trapped on Shada, surrounded by the transduction barrier that prevented them from escaping. The Master had been working on repairing the Endowment Chamber and on dropping the transduction barrier since the day he watched the TARDIS vanish from the prison planet. The sabotage that Captain Jack Harkness – with detailed instructions from the Doctor – had done to the barrier were quite thorough, nearly irreversible, and seemingly impenetrable.

In the two weeks they had been trapped, the Gallifreyan had succeeded in repairing the damage the Doctor had done to the Endowment Chamber. The only problem that he now had was the fact that the Chamber required a great amount of energy, energy that the transduction barrier was using. As such, the barrier became more than the thing that was keeping him and Lucy from the rest of the universe; it also was preventing them from achieving the ability to regenerate, an ability he at least had a right to, being a Time Lord.

The Master hit the computer console in front of him with frustration, still hindered from bringing down the antisocial defense mechanism. "It doesn't make sense! I should have broken through this day one!"

Lucy moved up behind him and wrapped her arms around him before kissing the nape of his neck. "If you tell me, maybe I can help."

The Gallifreyan huffed slightly. "Lucy, my dear, you may be amazing but I seriously don't think you have the mental capacity for complex algorithms such as only a Time Lord can calculate."

The blond woman thought for a moment, knowing that her next question probably wouldn't be of much help. "What about trying bypass the computer all together?"

"Already tried that," he admitted. "Any attempt to bypass the computer will result in the system to shut down permanently."

"Thus leaving the transduction barrier up until the power runs out," she deduced.

"Which means , given that the power that keeps this planet running is drawn from artron energy, that the barrier will stay up for at least a millennia."

"You're just thinking too hard on it," she suggested. "Have you tried going through the computer interface instead of around it?"

He gave her a glare. "Of course, I did! The Doctor obviously wants to check up on me eventually because he's created a pass-code sequence, one only he has the answers to. And there's no way to override it."

"Pass-code sequence?" Lucy questioned with curiosity.

"He apparently got the idea from a ship he was on with the sainted Martha Jones. You have to answer a series of questions correctly within a certain time frame or the system locks you out for one _Shada'it-apelhe_." He glanced at his wife and clarified, "One day on this planet. Thirty-one hours forty-six minutes in Earth standards." He growled. "Unfortunately, the Doctor is obsessed with nonsensical trivia. I know the answers to a couple of the questions but then I run across one that's just complete gibberish and the whole system shuts down on me! And the next day, it's a totally different set of questions and I haven't yet run across the same question!"

She rubbed his chest gently, pulling him closer to her in an attempt to comfort him. "I can see how you would be frustrated with that. How many questions do you have to answer to unlock the system?"

He shook his head. "Unknown. But it's more than four."

"How do you know?"

"Because that's the farthest I've gone in getting the right answers."

It was Lucy's turn to sigh in frustration. "Guess we'll just have to get the answers to the questions right."

Reluctantly agreeing with her, the Master moved away from the computer terminal to lean against the wall. Lucy joined him and together they stared at the aberrant bane.

"What sort of questions?" she finally asked after a long spell of silence.

"Trivial nonsense," he replied, reiterating what he had told her before. "Things like, 'Who is the Walrus?'"

"John Lennon," Lucy answered automatically.

The Master gave a grunt. "Got that reference as well but the system shut down when I replied with that answer."

She frowned. "Really? Obviously the question must be referring to a different walrus." She exhaled loudly. "Trying to figure out answers to those questions is going to be a pain, isn't it."

"Not like we're going anywhere soon," he pointed out, his tone reflecting just how infuriated he was with that particular fact.

There was another long pause between them as they thought about their current predicament.

"On the plus side, my husband is a genius," Lucy pointed out. "It doesn't hurt that he's fantastic in bed as well."

The Master looked at her as if she had completely lost her mind. "We're trapped on a prison planet and you want to have sex?"

She gave a coy, mischievous smile. "Well… there is the throne room and all those marvelous toys. At the very least, we can distract ourselves until we finally get that barrier down." She leaned towards him. "Besides, you know you always think better afterwards." Pushing off the wall, she beckoned to him, a come-hither expression on her face. "Come on, darling… Hurt me so badly that I scream for mercy."

The Gallifreyan's mouth slowly put on a smirk as he stepped away from the wall and followed her out of the room. They may be trapped, imprisoned until who knows when, but at least they knew how to entertain each other.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Doctor stood near the portal to his proper universe, dressed in his pin-striped suit and trainers. In addition, he now also wore a long silvery cloak with a hood along with an ornate pendant which hung from his neck, making him look almost regal as he surveyed the land where he had just spent two Earth days. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly before pulling the hood of the cloak over his head and walking through the portal and into his proper universe where his magnificent time ship was waiting for him.

The walk through the eternally raging storm, though less dangerous the second time around thanks to the protective cloak, seemed so much longer to the Doctor, each step a reminder of who he was leaving behind. He's already made some decisions which he knew would be difficult to live with but that were, in his opinion, for the best. One of those decisions was that, when the child was born, his son or daughter would remain with his or her mother until all three of them could be reunited with him at last, no matter how long that may be. He only hoped that Grace would be well enough for him to be able to visit on a regular basis.

The TARDIS moaned as he walked through the entrance. He knocked the hood off of his head to rest on his shoulders.

"I missed you too," the Time Lord informed the semi-sentient ship. A flitter of a thought touched his mind as he moved to the console. "No. Grace is staying here. The Shades are going to make her better. The same with the baby." He exhaled slowly as the TARDIS sent another impression. "I can't stay with her. My presence hurts her. She'll be fine." He paused as he listened to his oldest friend once more. "I'll miss her too," he responded quietly. "But we'll see her again soon."

Forcing all thoughts of his wife into the back of his mind – it was difficult to move just thinking about the lack of her mind so accessible to him and vice versa – he entered coordinates into the console, moving around the machine slowly. "Should go tell Andrew, update him on what's going on with his sister." He flicked a switch, sending the TARDIS into the Time Vortex and on its way back to 21st century Earth. He just hoped that his ill-tempered brother-in-law would be understanding about his leaving the owner of his hearts on a distant planet in another universe.

----------------

**Translations:**

_**Shada'it-apelhe**_ – Shada's day, exactly what it translates to


End file.
